


Deus Ex: The Persephone Project

by MechaHax



Category: Deus Ex (Video Games), Deus Ex: Human Revolution, Deus Ex: Mankind Divided
Genre: :D, AKA you swear like a sailor, All your friends are dead :), Augmented Reader, Coffee Addict Reader, Coffee With Jensen, Cold Apartment, Computers, Conspiracy Stuff, Cyber Security, Emotional Baggage, Ex-Sarif, Explicit Language, Flashbacks, Gen, HE'S A FRIEND FROM WORK, Hugs With Jensen, Illuminati, My First AO3 Post, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-Mankind Divided, Reader Needs a Hug, Reader-Insert, Technology, Worried I might give away too many spoilers in these XDD, You Didn't Ask for This, You really don't like Pritchard, enjoy :D, gender neutral reader
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-28
Updated: 2018-04-21
Packaged: 2019-02-07 22:47:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 22,953
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12851163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MechaHax/pseuds/MechaHax
Summary: You are an ex-Sarif Cyber Security employee currently working freelance tech maintenance out of your cheap apartment 2 years after the Aug incident.But after a mystery phone call from an old friend, an even older secret and a new danger start to come back around to haunt you.[NOTE FROM HAX [05/08/18][Hey Everyone.So... It's been a while, hasn't it?I have the next 11 chapters planned. I am currently writing them all down.These 11 chapters WILL be the finishing chapters of this story so this will in total have 30 chapters of my insanity poured into it.Pretty crazy given that this started as a 5 chapter long anxiety fic XDMany thanks to EVERYONE who has been leaving Kudos, makes me smile every time I see a new notification in my email. Feel free to leave comments, I wholeheartedly accept the constructive criticism so please throw it at me XDNext update will be announced once all 11 remaining chapters are completed and then we will return to Friday uploads until completionLETS DO THIS!!!- Hax]





	1. Persephone's Call

**Author's Note:**

> INDEX LINK:
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>  
> 
> <http://archiveofourown.org/works/12932874/chapters/29555337>
> 
>  
> 
> [](https://www.flickr.com/photos/137435437@N07/27281988879/in/dateposted-public/)  
> 

It was cold in your room that morning.  
The sun was still way below the horizon before the sound of your phone began blaring that obnoxious ringtone you thought you'd changed at least seven times already. With a groan, one metallic hand slipped from underneath the warmth of the covers and clumsily felt around for the offending alarm. After about a minute of fumbling, eyes still shut from sleep, you finally grasped it, pulling the sound closer within the confines of the duvet you had wrapped yourself into.  
Weary and blinded by the searing light of the screen, one metallic finger pressed the green answer button without even checking the number.

“Hello…?” You droned, praying this was just a case of a mistakenly typed wrong number and you would be allowed to simply go back to the joyous land of sleep.

“ **[Y/Name]**?”  
The voice was unfamiliar at first. Tense, deep… And clearly more awake than you at this hour.

“Who is it?”  
“I need your help.”  
“And I need sleep.”  
“You are in Apartment 14C of the Hephaestus Apartment Complex on Danae Street.”

It took a few seconds for the last bit to sink in, especially with its straight-forward delivery by your mystery caller.  
“How do you…?”  
“Look out of the window facing the carpark.”

There was an undignified groan of complete disbelief but with a few choice expletives, you vouched for pulling your duvet around yourself and dragging your half-awake self towards the window.  
With a pull of the slightly dodgy strings, the blinds pulled away to reveal the dull orange glow of the street lamps along with the single holographic billboard plastered across the street illuminating the other buildings as well as the car park.

And there they were as promised. Right next to your car and looking straight at you.  
It was hard to tell who they were from this distance, but they were clearly wearing a coat of some kind. Something you kinda wished you could have right now to replace the duvet which kept slipping from your shoulders.

“Okay. So… You know my name and where I live. Should I just put you on hold and call the police because I'm sure they'd love to sort out a restraining order for stalk-”  
“ **[Y/Name]** , I need your help.”  
“What with? Avoiding calling people at stupid AM?  
“You used to work for Sarif Industries, correct?”  
Ah, crap. This shit again.

“Yep, and you are definitely a stalker, now-”  
“Cyber Security branch? Programming expert?”  
“The heck…?”  
“Dealt with Pritchard on a regular basis?”  
“Okay, Mr. Stalker. How the hell do you know all this and what the hell has it got to do with my prick of an ex-boss?”

You could've sworn you heard the smirk this guy must've just made in response to your comment. It's true you had taken up freelance tech maintenance along with some minor augmentation programming work since having to quit Sarif Industries when the company went down a few years ago, your less-than-organic arm making it difficult to maintain a regular job nowadays, but nothing could ever change the fact that the Head of Cyber Security at Sarif was a complete asshole at all times. He must've had his reasons but DAMN did he get on your nerves… The only good thing about leaving that company was not having to deal with his bullshit on a daily basis ever again... Though you did miss some of the more polite and friendly folks there, that's for sure.

“I heard you could help me find something. Something only you know how to find.”  
“Is it the End Call button because I know exactly where that is and I'm very tempted to-”  
“Persephone.”

There was dead silence. This was… Not good, to say the least.  
“Who are you?”  
“I’m an old friend.”

Despite the voice seeming ever so slightly familiar at this point, it was too distant a connection for you to make, even with that code word sobering through your sleep-drunk mind.  
“Prove it.”

“The Head of Security at Sarif Industries gave you a mug for Christmas 2026”  
You paused. It sounded like a stab in the dark but he was right. Jensen, the Head of Security had given you a mug that Christmas. Only present you actually got that year… But…  
“Lots of office workers get mugs for Christmas.”  
“... After you helped him find something important a while back.”  
Okay. This was definitely way too accurate for a regular stalker.  
“Wh-What did I... help him find?”  
There was a short pause. Too short to be checking a list or a note or a memo, too long to be automated.  
“Directions to my office on my first week at Sarif.”

You had to stifle a gasp as you backed up from the window.  
“Holy shit... Jensen? Is that…?”  
“I’m gonna need your help again, **[Y/Name]**.”


	2. Hestia's Warmth

Hurriedly, you had switched the heating on, pulled on the biggest sweater you had available and fired up both the kettle and the computer.  
If this was what you thought it was, this was a very VERY serious situation.  
Amidst the confusion you pulled up an old cardboard box full of your old work files and hard drives from back in the day, muttering a stream of curse words as you fiddled around in your panicked yet half-wakened state, your brain practically begging for either caffeine or sleep at this rate.

The knock on the door caused you to stop like a deer in headlights before you tumbled towards the apartment door, undid the several latches that held you within the safety of your bubble you called home and opened it wide to come face to chest with the rather imposing figure that was standing there, waiting for you to let them in.

It was like walking into an old dream, a faded memory. The hair was the same, beard had grown in a bit. Same taste in black trench coats with the squared-off shoulders… The only difference between this man and the guy you used to chat with on graveyard shift was the…  
“ **[Y/Name]**?”

You snapped back to reality as you breathed out a fresh gulp of air, the metal fingers of your augmented hand denting the door from previous panic and shock mixed with the current case of deja vu.  
“I-It's really you…?” You stammered as you remembered every casual conversation you two had had way back before that night 6 months before the Aug Incident. The late shift that had cost you your arm and half a year later your freedom to be human...

Word had gotten around pretty fast that Adam Jensen, Head of Sarif’s Security, had to be seriously augmented to survive what happened that night and for nearly 6 months you had to struggle through dealing with your new limb and bare through the weekly neuropozyne injections without your old workmate. You'd never seen him again until he'd interrupted Bill Taggart during a Humanity Front press conference on a Picus News broadcast not long before the Incident. You recognized the voice but not the augmentations at the time. And that was all you'd heard of him after what happened for at least nearly 3 years.  
And now…

“Yeah… It's me.”  
“I… We… You were… They all thought you'd…”  
A hand that was not the one you remembered as his own rested on your shoulder. You glanced up at him for a moment in sheer disbelief, before realizing what was going on and backing up to let him into the apartment. He looked at you with the look you get when someone silently thanks you and apologizes at the same time before stepping in and letting you close the door

You two clearly had quite a bit of catching up to do.

**-Δ-**

There was a weird kind of silence in your apartment for about five minutes as you poured out two regular sized cups of coffee for yourself and your unexpected guest, giving the radiator an experimental kick to see if it was actually working.  
The world may be dawning on a new decade but not everyone can afford to live in a shiny, fully functioning apartment these days… Particularly not an augmented computer programmer like yourself.  
You did miss the nicer days of the Chiron Building but after Detroit became an Anti-Aug warzone, you had decided it was best to move to somewhere more hospitable in nature… even if the heating was utter shit in winter.

Jensen had taken a seat next to the boxes of research, notes and hard drives in your incredibly modest excuse of a lounge/office/bedroom, already scanning through the leafs of code and text detailing the old “Persephone ” Project from the old days of the Sarif Cyber Security Team. You’d joined the team in 2022 straight from your Computer Science Degree, working with Pritchard and the others in protecting Sarif Industries on the digital front. However, the team ended up venturing into the lands of technological security advancement in the process, leading all of you to end up in some serious crap. It all became so covert, hidden and suppressed under god knows how many miles of red tape. It was definitely too big for your paygrades back then…  
Big enough to get people killed.  
Good people.

“How much do you know then?”  
“Hm?” Jensen looked up as you brought the coffee over to him, hugging your own mug close for warmth as your sweater kept slipping your shoulder. You made another mental note to check the damn size next time you bought anything from a thrift store.  
“You mentioned Pritchard. Only he and I know about… This. He’s obviously had to tell you something if he’s gone to the effort of getting you to find me.”  
“Actually... He found you”  
You paused. “... GPL tracker?”  
“Yeah.”  
“Shit... Thought I scrambled that signal ages ago. Bastard...”  
“Yeah, he’s done it to me too.”  
“Seriously?”

There was a mutual feeling of amused and shared disdain for Pritchard’s antics, reviving the year’s old feeling of friendly conversation you’d missed so much from the old days. Actually, you hadn’t had that much actual conversation with a lot of people since The Incident… People didn’t exactly want to be associating with Augs after what happened back in 2027. You weren’t surprised that they were scared, just a little disappointed at the loneliness only just being realized in your first genuinely friendly conversation with another human in at least 2 years.

But you knew Jensen hadn’t come here to just to chat… Shame.

“So go on. What’s Pritchard told you then?”  
“Just that Persephone was an old project created by the original twelve Sarif Cyber Security Team Members. Twelve hard drives containing data regarding the prototypes for Sarif Cyber Security Systems.”  
“That all?”  
“And that there are only 2 members currently still alive. Protecting them. Pritchard… And you.”  
“Well… yeah, that’s the gist of it...”  
“Four died in the '27 Sarif Break-In as casualties… One from natural causes last year… And five were-”  
“Assassinated?”  
“I’ll assume that’s why you went off the grid.”  
“Yeah, no shit, Jensen.”

You smirked a little at him, laughter being your best defense from the emotional pain of remembering the ten closest teammates you’d ever had. Your literal workplace family. Jensen, however, didn’t exactly return the smile, instead choosing to look up at you apologetically before drinking his coffee, perhaps knowing exactly just how much bullshit you’d been through to get to this point, alone and freezing in this shitty apartment. You’d lost contact with your blood-related family not long after Sarif had picked you up for various personal reasons, you’d lost the majority of your work family, your arm, your old home, your freedom…  
So much bullshit, and yet you were the one smiling.

“Listen… If Pritchard’s sent you to check on me because of Persephone, you can tell him that it’s under control. I’m the one who personally encrypted the damn things, whatever’s hidden in them is only known to me and that douchebag now...”  
“You have all the files then?”  
“Six of them… As promised. Well hidden. Prick-head has the other six under wraps as far as I’m aware.”  
“And… You?”  
“Hmm?”  
“How are you holding up?”  
You almost laughed again, holding back the painful memories but keeping yourself calm enough to respond.  
“Nearly 3 years in a shitty freezing apartment, working freelance cyber-maintenance for pennies and cents, all whilst keeping a secret that could get me killed. Life’s great.”  
You smiled again, still holding it all back as you raised your mug in a one-sided "Cheers" before taking a scalding swig, pulling your sweater over shoulder again. Why oh why did you have to get a fucking big sweater? No denying it was cheap and comfy but you would prefer it if the shoulders actually STAYED on your shoulders. Draught was getting to you a bit…

“Should’ve come to visit you sooner...”  
“Huh?”  
You looked over at Jensen, half surprised at the statement he had just made just as your tonsils relaxed from the intense heat of the cheap caffeine.  
“After what happened at Sarif… I was on leave for 6 months. Could’ve phoned, could’ve checked in. I didn’t… With anyone. Then the incident happened and I didn't think to contact you again until Pritchard called me about this and pinged your-”  
“Hey. Jensen?”  
He looked up at you, an apologetic look in his new eyes indicating that he probably felt like a complete ass for having to leave you, his old workmate, his friend behind for so long…  
You gave him an understanding smile as you placed your own augmented hand on his shoulder, replicating his own motion from earlier.  
“We’ve all been through shit. But what matters now is… You’re here. And I’m happy to have the company. Even if it is pretty damn unexpected at stupid AM and by calling me from the damn carpark.”

There it was. The classic Jensen smirk. You nudged him with your mug before getting up to check your computer.  
“Come on, drink up. By the looks of it that heating isn’t gonna kick in for another hour.”  
“You forgot the cream two sugars.”

You laughed at his statement. Of course, he’d complain about how he had his coffee.  
“You can have it if you can find it, rich boy. For now, milk one sugar is gonna have to do.”  
You shot an amused smile at him and he gave an appreciative one back as you took up residence in the vacant seat at your computer.

It was nice to have company whilst you worked again.


	3. Acheron's Burn

It took you mere seconds to type in your passcode, bringing up the desktop and sorting out the data within, searching for your half of Persephone.

“Anyways, why did Pritchard send you?”  
You spoke as the heavy booted footsteps of your colleague approached behind you, settling metal fingers on the backrest of your seat as he watched your own flesh and steel type away at the keyboard, decrypting enough files to reveal the holy grail that you kept under a digitized lock and key.

“Something’s come up.”  
“Gonna have to explain a little more than that Jensen. This is dangerous shit we are dealing with.”  
There was a pause, a breath and then…  
“He thinks some of the data files might’ve been compromised. He wants to check them in person for anything unusual. Trackers, bugs, etc… All of them”

The rapid typing had stopped the moment he’d said the word ‘compromised’.  
“You mean… He thinks that…?”  
“He doesn’t think you’ve done anything to them, just that maybe one of them might’ve been tampered with after they got split between you what with...”  
“The murders?”  
You turned to look at him with a knowing, almost scared look.  
“He thinks I’m next… Doesn’t he?”  
“He obviously wouldn’t see himself as a target but you both have them painted on your backs. He asked me to check on you, collect the files and, if possible… evacuate you.”  
“Evacuate me?!”

You looked up at Jensen with a look of sheer disbelief. How fucking dare that asshole underestimate your damn cover! You’d been off the grid for nearly three whole years, alone and with not a single issue on your end until now.  
And now your old work friend was telling you that your home, your shitty ass apartment, was compromised and your ass was royally fucked. You sighed, resting your head in your hands as Jensen moved his hand round from your seat to your back, letting you have your moment of well-earned despair.

“Fucking… Pritchard. Should’ve known this would get us all killed...”  
“We can complain about Pritchard being an asshole later… For now. It’s best if we just get you and those files out of here as soon as we can. He doesn’t think they’ve found you yet but it’s better to be safe than sorry.”

It was about now that it was all starting to come out. The tide of bottled-up emotions held back with false smiles, sarcasm, and caffeine. The lonely years had finally caught up with you as a single tear managed to barrel its way out of your socket despite your attempts to suppress it. The emotional rollercoaster had hit its peak and now it was spiraling down into a choked sob. Everything around you disappeared as you tried to hide the tears of sheer fucking pain you’d tried so hard to avoid revealing.  
The only thing you could actually register was the gentle feeling of Jensen rubbing your shoulder blade, letting you have the time to cry and get it all out.

So much bullshit…

You couldn't tell how long you had spent there by the time you realized what had become of yourself, sobbing in pure unadulterated futility at your predicament being the only thing you could do at this point. An arm came up and around your head, pulling you close as you could feel yourself holding onto Jensen for dear life. He stroked your hair and your back a little like you were a crying child or a hurt younger sibling, whispering calming words into your ear as you sobbed painfully into his shoulder.  
“It’s okay… You’re gonna be okay… I won’t let them hurt you... I’m sorry...”

You hugged him tightly as you tried to bring yourself back to the real world, but it had been far too long since the last time you’d just let it all out. All the pain, all the hurt… just... all of it. Last time you had ended up like this, Jensen had done the exact same thing for you. You had had a particularly shitty day at work and just straight-up broken down in the office alone during a longest late shift of your career. Jensen had found you there that night and brought you back to Earth with a warm hug, some kind words and an offering of coffee. He understood that you’d had a shit time of it for way too long and that was just your breaking point. You had just had it with everything and the only way you could let it all out was by crying your damned heart out when no one else was around to witness the self-destruction. Only Jensen had really known you weren’t all smiles and smart remarks. He could see right through you the only way a best friend could.

“I-I di-didn’t fucking ask...for this...this bullshit...” You stammered into his coat, tears running down the leather and fabric as you hugged your arms around him tightly as he cradled your head with artificial fingers, rubbing your back gently and squeezing you a little just so you knew he was there. You could feel the scruff of his beard scratching your skin as his chin rested on your exposed shoulder, the heat from him warming you way more than your shitty radiator or your stupid sweater was managing right now.

“I know you didn’t, kid… I know you didn’t…”

After a while, you didn’t know how long, you sniffed, wiping your nose with your sleeve and rubbing away the excess tears. You collected yourself before pulling away to relieve him from the embrace.  
“Thanks… Jensen.”  
You looked up at him as he brushed your hair away from your damp face and smiled at you.  
“Just happy you’re alright, **[Y/Name]**... Now. Sorry to break the moment but...”  
“The files, yeah.”

You sniffed, breaking out a weak laugh as your colleague stood up again, resting a hand on your shoulder as you composed yourself, getting back to finding the files.

“It’s nice to have you back, Jensen...”  
“Nice to see you again too, **[Y/Name]**.”


	4. Epimetheus' Burden

You pulled up the last set of files regarding Persephone as you began to upload them into the six backup drives you had prepared. You leaned back and sighed as the loading bar worked its magic. Again, New decade, shitty equipment. God, you missed the good old Sarif Hardware… Still, you'd managed to succeed in modifying some of the hardware to make it all capable of hiding the best part of half a petabyte of data so it wasn't all that useless.

“How long is this gonna take?”  
The gruff yet familiar voice beside you looked at the screen expectantly  
“It’s a lot of data. An hour at most… Should be around… 4 AM when the… when the...”  
You yawned. Even with shitty caffeine, your body still seemed to reject the idea of staying awake.  
“ **[Y/Name]**?”  
“I’m fine just… Caffeine hit doesn’t seem to be… ‘Hitting’, if you catch my drift.’

You could hear the smirk on his face you leaned back into the creaking chair, decade-old plastic and metal working against your weight as you yawned again from exhaustion and sleep deprivation.  
“Tired?”  
“Usually I’d say no… But you did wake me up at damn past midnight so yeah, I’m pretty fucking tired.”  
You choked out an exhausted laugh as the crappy chair beckoned you to sleep but the mechanical hand on your shoulder reminded you that you had other duties that morning.  
“You can sleep on the way. For now, I think it’s best if you get some stuff together for the trip. Once we’re gone, coming back isn’t exactly gonna be an option.”  
“Right, alright… just… gimme a minute.”

You quickly pulled up some extra tabs on your computer, rearranged some files and dealt with whatever unfinished business you had on there before you lifted yourself out of the chair and headed towards your wardrobe and pulled out the panic bag.  
“Clothes, food, etc… That can stay. I have an arrangement with the landlord. If I have to run, he gets full custody of all my spare shit. I’ve got all the essentials in here. Emergency cash, neuropozyne, some spare clothes, a burner phone, notes...”  
“You knew you would have to run someday.”  
“When you're hiding something like Persephone, you’ve gotta keep yourself in a state of move it or lose it… Buuut nothing had come up for two years except for everything that happened last year. I mean… Ozmond passing, that was almost expected. The guy was stubborn as fuck, wouldn’t have a single damn surgery to help him live longer if it had anything to do with the word “Augmentation”. But Bexton? McGregor? Heck… When I saw the report on Paulo I… He was fucking ex-navy and they found him in-”  
You had to swallow back the images you'd _salvaged_ (not exactly by any completely legal means but you were in an obvious panic that day after seeing the report.) from the police records of Paulo, bleeding from a gunshot wound and face down on his kitchen floor. The biggest guy you’d ever met, could’ve gotten decked by Jensen and have barely flinched, even with the new arms… Gunned down in front of his wife and kids… Coincidentally also murdered that day.

You felt Jensen squeeze your shoulder again as he noticed you going under again. You swallowed the hurt and faced him as you zipped the bag back up.  
“I was a fucking computer science graduate when I joined Sarif. I wasn’t a cop or a soldier or a spy… I was a damned kid who’d just scraped in as smart enough to work in cybersecurity. They all had something to back them up, Jensen. Norton was ex-MI5, Amir was MIT… Me? I just got fucking lucky!”

“ **[Y/Name]** , I read your file back when I first met you when I arrived at Sarif. Said you’d graduated top of your class and David Sarif himself had actually personally recommended you to Pritchard as a candidate for the team.”  
You froze for a moment.  
“He did…?”  
“I even asked him about it afterward. He said you had potential.”  
You emitted a choked laugh of surprise at his statement, only to remember how easy it had been for you to get shifted off the payroll after the company had to get bought out by Tai Yong Medical and Detroit became a complete No-Aug Zone. Great help from the man who gave you a job and a new arm was when it really mattered...  
“Still… Potential or not, I didn’t ask to be part of some covert conspiracy that would get my friends killed and paint a big-ass fucking target on my back. _This_?”  
You motioned to the bag as you picked it up and carried it to the research boxes, starting to stuff some of the essential paper files inside “This isn’t what I signed up for, Jensen...”

The air in the room seemed to shift as the atmosphere gained a tone of disappointment radiating from your friend as you knelt on the ground, sifting through the papers. It felt like he’d wanted to ask you a question or offer an alternative to something, but your emotional response had already answered him without him needing to speak.  
“We’re probably gonna have to burn a fair bit of this. Most of its pretty well coded and would only lead them to a dead end but...”

You felt him kneel down next to you, helping to pick up the papers with mechanical fingers as you sorted through every leaf, prioritizing which ones were irreplaceable, which were unreadable and which were probably best keeping anyways. You hadn’t noticed till now how advanced his augs were in comparison to your own. You both had Sarif-built models but he had lost both hands and they were seemingly more advanced than your own. Sleek jet black with golden highlights… David Sarif’s own personal touch, no doubt.  
Your augment, quite literally on the other hand, was a lot more scuffed up from 2 years of personal readjustment and living in a shithole apartment. Off-white and dirty-orange digits picked up more leafs of paper and organized them before one of you spoke up.

“Break-in?”  
“What?” You looked you at him in surprise.  
“The arm.”  
“Oh, this?” You raised it up slightly. It was functional for sure and thanks to the various agreements with your landlord you had a decent neuropozyne supply on hand, a luxury few had the connections to afford. But the paintwork was scratched half to hell and the panels were incredibly stained from months of caffeine abuse. Sensitivity in the fingertips was going a little too from strenuous hours of work at the keyboard…  
“Yeah… Guess we all lost something during that incident...”

The sad lilt in your voice hinted at the four of your co-workers who had been brutally killed in the attack. You had all been working late as was usual when the alarm was sounded. Shot multiple times in the arm and torso by one of the terrorists with an automatic weapon, pain searing your eviscerated limb as you blacked out, praying in for rescue, survival, death, literally anything as your arm became unresponsive and you lost consciousness from the blood loss. Two weeks later you had woken up in the hospital with a foreign limb and three months later you were back to work, feeling like you’d lost a part of yourself that night.  
Jensen nodded in understanding agreement as he finished organizing the boxes.  
“Speaking of which… I heard that Megan survived the attack… Something on Picus said she was working at Versalife now… You two still…?”  
There was a long pause that sat between you and your old friend that said everything at once. You sighed.

“Right… If you wanna talk about-”  
“No.”  
The response was blunt but not impolite. He knew you hadn’t found out about their separation until now. They always seemed so close… But obviously everyone has their own problems, and whatever had happened with Megan was his own business. If he wanted to talk to you about it, he would… Just not right now.

You stood up, not attempting to press the matter further and instead, you turned to place the panic bag on your creaky old work chair, ready for when the files were uploaded.  
“We still have half an hour until we can go. Want another coffee?”  
“Thanks, **[Y/Name]**.”


	5. Hephaestus' Flame

The smell of caffeine burned through the air as the kettle boiled again, more scalding liquid pouring into the mugs as you breathed in the scent of your drug of choice. You looked over to see Jensen looking out of the window, the blinds causing a sliver of light to mark out his eyes, framed by those strange augments around the outer edges of his sockets.  
He still seemed every bit the man you knew from the old Sarif days, but so different at the same time. You knew that a lot must’ve happened to him these past few years, but you were too tentative to press too many questions to him. But you could tell he’d seen some things during your time apart and, from what you could read from him now, he’d just seen something outside.

Carefully, you walked over, mug in hand, hoping you could either snap him out of it with caffeine or get a glance at what had caught his attention.  
“Jensen?”  
You stepped closer.  
“ **[Y/Name]**. How long left on those files…?”  
“10 minutes at least, why?”  
“10 minutes is all we’ve got right now if that van is what I think it is.”

Quickly, your mind sobered up once again as you put down both mugs and jogged back to the computer.  
“I can make it 5 but I don’t know if-”  
“You get changed. I’ll handle the files.”  
“Wha-?”  
“ **[Y/Name]**.”  
You both shared a look of knowing that your time was unfortunately limited and quickly you scrambled to find your wardrobe. You quickly pulled off the sweater and, not bothering to remove your pajamas, first due to your obvious time constraints and secondly the presence of your guest (even if he was incredibly distracted and with his back turned to you), you yanked on a pair of loose jeans from your collection as well as a more suitably sized shirt and jumper. It only took a minute to tie your boots on before you were pulling on a hooded jacket and Jensen was wiping your computer and stuffing the six drives into the panic bag.  
“Time to go.”

Jensen tossed you the bag at you as you finished pouring the bottle of vodka you’d had stashed away for an incident like this over the excess papers. He punched out the computer monitor and the tower, ensuring nothing of importance was left behind and inadvertently startling you somewhat with his strength before you pulled the lighter out of your back pocket.  
“Apartment’s shitty, but fire safety in here is pretty good. Alarms will go off and the civilians will evacuate. Might buy us some time.”  
“And the papers?”  
“We have the crucial shit, this lot will just send them to a dead end. Now...”

You tossed the lighter, the alcohol-powered heat instantaneous.  
“Let's go.”

You were already half-way down the stairwell when the alarms sounded, sprinklers raining down upon you making the downwards trek rather treacherous, keeping close to Jensen and the panic bag closer as you exited the building. It wasn’t long until you were outside, the cold air biting your skin, the rain even more so. You pulled your hood up in a futile attempt to ward off the pelting water.  
“You know where my car is right?”  
“Yeah, but they’ll be expecting you to take that option. There’s a subway not far from here”  
“Great… I actually really liked that car.”

You felt Jensen’s arm pull around your shoulders, obviously trying to keep you and the files as close to himself as possible and to avoid your unseen pursuers. You felt a little crappy about having to burn your apartment in the rush but with the convenience of the fire safety being more decent than the actual heating, you were certain that no one would be hurt in the escape and your now ex-landlord could gladly have your rent in thrift store-bought belongings. Everything of consequence was already in the bag with you.  
You were a stone's throw from the subway when Jensen suddenly quickened his pace, nearly tripping you over as you ducked down the stairs and underground into the station. He pulled out a spare travel card from his inside jacket pocket and stuffed it your hand.  
“I know you said you didn’t want to be covert but this is the best way to get out of this town right now.”

The process of getting through was a blur as Jensen quickly displayed a B-H-8-4-7 Orange-Level Clearance card before you were about to get shoved through an “Augs-Only” turnstile and searched several times over. The guard on duty gave Jensen a look of near panic before hurriedly half-pushing the pair of you through, just in time avoid his supervisor and to catch the next train out of the city.  
As the train began to roll away, you saw several people come down the same steps you had, one individual seemingly in a riled-up state as they desperately glanced at the empty “Augs” turnstile, looking around the station in a frenzy as the platform disappeared into the black abyss.

You turned back around as you settled into the seat next to Jensen, taking a deep breath and a sigh of relief as you leaned back into the drabbest and worn fabric the subway had to offer. The mechanical arm around your shoulders returned, offering you a surprisingly more comfortable cushion for your head in the nook of his shoulder.

“I’ll wake you up when we get to where we’re going… It’s been a long night.”  
“Thanks, Jensen...” You murmured as you subconsciously closed your eyes, your head settling into his chest as sleep quickly closed in, the rumbling of the subway rocking you deep into the void you had missed out on so much in those past few hours.

And as the dawn rises toward a new decade, the tide of bullshit began to shift to a new era.

Maybe this time you could get some peace for once in your life.

Just like old times.


	6. Hermes' Flight

_Sarif Industries, Detroit HQ, January 2027_.

Another night, another round of coffee getting sent around the office, except for two cups.

Most late nights, you found the place to be relatively quiet. But tonight was a big one.  
Dr. Reed and her team were headed to Washington that night to deliver her research to Congress and lucky you had the honorable job of Coffee Duty for the Security Team.

“Excuse me, thank you! Pardon me!”

Despite the slightly demoralizing factor of being the youngest member of the Sarif Security Team, a point which Bexton had made sure tease you for relentlessly about for the past 5 years, you actually quite liked this job. Working in the augmentation industry during this era of human evolution was one thing, feeling like you were somehow part of the movement was something else entirely. But despite your intrigue, you hadn’t really considered getting any upgrades lately… At least not yet. With two fully stacked cardboard trays of caffeine in your capable hands, you hot-stepped your way through the corridors, narrowly avoiding any spillages or mishaps along the way as the buzz continued. TV screens broadcasting Eliza Cassan’s updates of the crowds outside DC as you coasted your way back to the Cyber Security Hub Office.

“Okay! Who needed Coffee?”  
You smiled as you were greeted by several grateful sighs of relief as Li and Smith came over to relieve you of your caffeinated burden. A hearty slap on the back and a hair ruffle from a smiling Bexton was all you needed to top off the miniature celebration. Heck, if the Hub had caffeine and Pritchard was out of the room, everything was pretty damn good as far as you were all concerned.

“‘Bout, time y’ showed up, **[Y/Name]**. Was startin’ t’ nod off over here!”  
“Well, if Pritchard would listen to me and get a coffee machine in here, Smith, I think wouldn’t half save Little **[Y/Name]** ’s legs here.”  
“Knock it off, Bexton. You've been pulling that gag for 5 years straight now, you bully.”  
“And I’ll keep pulling it till we get that damn coffee maker, Gramps!”  
“Ozmond’s right, Bexton. Quit teasing **[Y/Name]** , you know damn well why Pritchard still hasn’t let us have an in-office coffee machine... Ah! Thanks, Li.”  
“Is that because of Sarif strong-arming him into hiring them, Miss. Kato, or because he is an advocate of Slave Labour?”  
“Hey, Norton! They can hear you y’know!”  
“Are you referring to **[Y/Name]** or Pritchard, Amir?”  
“Hey, calm it down you lot! Gotta finish this before he gets back again. Paulo? Dimi? How are you two doing on keeping track of those cameras I asked you about?”  
“I’ve got it covered, McGregor, quit worrying yourself. Big Bad Pritchard isn’t going to be biting your head off anytime soon...”  
“That is if he’s a good mood… AKA Never.”  
“Shut up and drink your damn coffee, Dimi.”

One big dysfunctional family. Man, you loved this.  
Paulo came up and gave you a gentle pat on the shoulder. “Eh, don’t mind ‘em, **[Y/Name]**. Pritchard actually just doesn’t want a coffee machine in here since he knows we’d all overuse it. Plus… Safety reasons.”  
“I believe you… But someday, someone else is gonna have to take over Coffee Duty.”  
“Eh, someone will someday. Just not today.” He smirked at you as he turned back to his desk.  
“You’ve been saying that every shift for the past 5 years.”  
“And I’ll keep saying it till I’m not here to say it. Anyways, you forgetting something?”  
“Like what?”  
“Like how you've only arrived with 10 coffees and Pritchard’s standing right behind you.”

There was a dead silence, a snigger from Bexton and a small noise of panic from McGregor as you turned to see Pritchard himself looming over you.  
“Forgetting me already, **[Y/Name]**?”  
“How could I possibly?” You feigned some kind of appreciative voice as everyone watched him peering at you like an expectant schoolmaster before sighing in mild disappointment.  
“Whatever, I was only coming back for a moment to get the tracker prototype schematics for Reed and her team. Athene called, wants me to explain how they work before they all head off to Washington.”  
“Here they are!”  
“Ah, thank you, McGregor. How’s that Firewall holding up now, by the way?”  
“Tests seem to be showing up alright. The loophole is still plugged like you said it should be.”  
“Excellent, I might stick around, keep an eye on that. Now, **[Y/Name]** , I’m giving you 10 minutes. If you aren’t back with my caffeine dose by then, you’re losing your own coffee privileges.”

“Understood...” You grimaced at the thought as Paulo rolled his eyes and gave Pritchard a nudge to lay off as you backed up, smiling as you heard someone, probably Li of all people, call McGregor a suck-up before you exited the hub yet again.

**-Δ-**

You gritted your teeth as the alarm beeped again. 2 tries down. One last chance or-  
“ **[Y/Name]**?”

You startled, quickly turning round to see Adam Jensen and Dr. Reed standing behind you, expecting to use the door which was currently jammed shut due to a fault. Again.  
“Jensen! Dr. Reed! Hi!” You beamed awkwardly as you signaled to have one moment to check the override password again and rewire the nodes a third time before a green light pinged and the door opened.  
“Ladies and Security Managers first!” You smiled and gestured for them to enter as.  
“Thanks, **[Y/Name]**.”

They both hurried through, Jensen almost pulling you along for the ride with a slightly aggressive hair ruffle. Since he’d arrived, you two had become good friends, especially after that one really tough late shift Pritchard had stuck on you after you’d had literally the worst week ever. Jensen had your back like a big brother would a younger sibling. You still had that mug he’d given you for Christmas on your desk as a commemorative ornament of sorts… Or more like an act of defiance against Pritchard’s obsessive “Anti-Jensen” campaign.  
Seriously, what the hell was up with him with all that?

“Thought you’d already be back in the Hub by now. Pritchard on your back again?”  
“Yeah. Bexton keeps asking for a coffee machine in the Hub but you know how the boss is. Always acts like carrying 12 coffee cups in trays that can barely fit 5 each should be an easy job. Have to head all the way back to the machine for both mine and his caffeine boost and get back within at least 10 minutes otherwise he’s "revoking my caffeine privileges"... Again. Swear I should just get myself a 2nd set of arms...”  
“Well, if he gets at you again, tell him I’ll be having words with him. Now, you go get that coffee. It’s gonna be a long night.”  
“Thanks, Jensen. Good Luck with Washington, Dr. Reed!”  
“Thank you, **[Y/Name]**. Have a good night.”  
She turned to you and smiled appreciatively as Jensen patted you on the shoulder.

“See you later, **[Y/Name]**. Come on, Megan. We’ve still got travel arrangements to deal with in my office.”  
“Doorway on your left!” you called back as you turned to the coffee machine, earning yourself a thumbs up at your inside joke.

Good times.


	7. Phobetor’s Wrath

“What I don’t get is… Why is he so against Jensen? Were they like High School Rivals or something?”  
“Nah, he’s from New Hampshire. Jensen’s born ‘n bred Detroit.”  
“I heard it was because of that screenplay thing.”  
“What screenplay thing?”  
“The Nuclear Snake one. Y’know, the one he wouldn’t shut up about for literal weeks.”  
“Oh, thaaat… Did that ever make it to PicusTV?”  
“Apparently they’ve got it but it’s in development hell. Word on the web is that it’s because of there still being disagreements over the main character. Something about him wanting the protagonist to be a hacker but the editors want an ex-cop kinda character. Trust me, it’ll never make it to air....”

The conversation between Kato, Li, Smith, and Dimitriou brewed with the sounds of avid typing and coffee drinking. You yawned again before creaking your neck, stretching your fingers before taking a sip out of your ceremonial mug.  
Dimitriou continued to argue about the possibility of Pritchard’s little screenplay project ever making the screen with an unconvinced Li. You looked over the camera feeds again before re-checking the firewall's status a fourth time as well as making a note to send word about the dodgy automated door locks. You were always having to fix that one every time. Honestly, if Pritchard has specifically bugged the locks to mess with you, you’re gonna-

All the screens went red as the alarms sounded.  
“Shit!” Kato exclaimed before rechecking her own screen. “Smith, what did you do this time?”  
“Didn’t do shit. Pritchard’s still out talking to Athene about the trackers. Where’s the breach?”  
“Environmental hazard… Something in the labs. Accident?”  
“ **[Y/Name]**!” Dimi tossed a scanner your way. “Use this. Find Pritchard. Find out what's going on. I’ll work on shutting this alarm off. Sarif will be calling in-”

A voice called over the speaker. “This is Athene, Sarif has requ-... tha-... alarm...”  
“Weird. Interference coming from somewhere. Still, as expected. Go on, [Y/Name], before Pritchard has all our necks for this.”

In an instant, you’d put down your coffee and started rushing out to find Pritchard. Chances are he was on the upper levels unless he’d gone down a floor or two. You checked the scanner.  
To test the GPL’s prior to putting them into the Research Team, Pritchard had decided the best thing to do would be to implant the prototypes into all 12 of the Cyber Security members. Your neck was still healing up from your own implant, suspecting that he’d been especially malevolent in the application of your own tracker. You could see several dots throughout the building including yourself before the screen went static.  
"Shit, Pritchard's gonna kill me..."

You legged it down the now worryingly vacant corridors, attempting to dodge the odd person here and there that seemed to be running from someone. You checked for a signal on your earpiece.  
“Dimi, what’s going on?”  
“Ca-n’t… He-a-... You… J-us… Fi-... Pri-...!”  
“Dimi? Dimi?! Shit...”

You kept at it. Elevators would be on lockdown. Stairs would still be open.

You swore you almost broke something as you jumped down the steps practically in threes. Had to find Pritchard… Or Jensen… Or literally anyone with a clue as to what was going on!  
Alarm still wasn’t going down, this must’ve been the real deal. But an environmental hazard had never caused this big of an incident, let alone something this bad in-

You nearly screamed when someone ran into you as you left the stairwell and knocked you over flat.  
“ **[Y/Name]** , What The Hell Are You Doing?!”

Well… You found Pritchard.

“Argh… Trying to find you! The hell is going on?”  
“Someone’s gotten in. Just RUN!”  
You felt him grab your arm quite roughly as you ran, half-dragged away from the stairwell.  
“Jensen?! JENSEN, YOU IDIOT PICK UP!!!”  
“Dimi Said There Was Inter-”  
“I KNOW there is, **[Y/Name]** , the question is WHY?”

His mood had clearly worsened with the situation as you turned the corner to see someone with a gun standing there, looking right at the pair of you. Clearly not Sarif, you felt yourself be pushed back quite roughly as he dived back around the corner with you.  
“fuck...” You held your breath as he gritted his teeth, a fair few bullets chipping the wall you were hiding behind. This was DEFINITELY bad. You both hushed your voices as you hurried back around the corner.  
“Got to get rid of whatever’s causing interference...”  
“Where’s Jensen?”  
“Presumably trying to find Dr. Reed on the lower levels. Come on we can-.”

He was cut off by your screams as someone grabbed you by the back of the neck and threw you into the path of the gunman. The next few moments replayed in slow motion, but far too quickly to properly register.

You felt yourself in the air.

You hit something.

Gunshots.

Several things hit you.

There was Shock...

Then Pain...

Then Blindness...

More Pain...

Electricity...

Blind...

Fading...

Pain...

Noise…

Yelling...

Silence...

Black...

“ **[Y/Name]**...”

Shaking...

“Wake Up!”

Distance...

“ **[Y/Name]**?”

Pain…

“ **[Y/NAME]**!”

You screamed and then… You woke up.


	8. Icarus’ Lament

He was honestly gonna punch Pritchard at the end of all this.

Last time they’d spoken after Palisade, he said they’d be even. That it would be the last time they’d work together. Bastard then calls him again after one hell of a day asking for another favor.  
Thankfully he’d been able to get their name out before he ended the call.  
This was one favor he couldn’t refuse.

After the break-in, **[Y/Name]** was apparently moved to a day shift… part of their recovery, according to David. He, however, had still been stuck at home for his, dealing with literally everything alone and at once with barely anything but booze and smoke and punching out mirrors. The augments, Sarif… Megan.  
He couldn’t believe he’d never even tried contacting **[Y/Name]** after he’d basically come back from the dead. He'd spent six months on leave whilst they had been stuck back at work after only 3, missing 4 co-workers, their arm and possibly even more of themselves that they were just too stubborn to talk to anyone else about.

Pritchard was… Difficult to say the least, but he sure as heck had not been obviously sympathetic to them through all this crap. Leaving them alone after the Aug Incident? Isolating them with the knowledge that their coworkers, their friends were being murdered for this research? Forcing them into hiding at their age? **[Y/Name]** had always had it rough both at home and at work but what Pritchard had done, to Jensen’s understanding, was downright brutal.

He’d looked out for **[Y/Name]** at Sarif. He hadn’t been there as long in comparison to them but they’d become like the younger sibling he never had during his time there. Protecting them and this… “Persephone” thing from whatever and especially whoever was chasing them was both the least and the best he could do for them in return and to apologize about not helping them through all the crap that had been forced on them since he’d last seen them.

When Pritchard gave him the location, he’d had been surprised at just where they’d landed themselves. Their apartment was draughty, messy, cramped… Nothing like how he’d remembered their place at the Chiron Building after he and Megan had gone for dinner there one night. They’d always liked candles... he remembered that. He smiled at the memory behind lensed eyes, remembering how warm their home used to be, beautifully lit with only a few piles of organized mess from work here and there on shelves. It was all a far cry from the single room which had served as **[Y/Name]** ’s place of residence for apparently the past 2 years.

He had no idea if they’d even been affected by the biochip that fateful day… It didn’t bear thinking about what they might’ve seen… or done.

He couldn’t help but blame himself as his arm tightened noticeably around **[Y/Name]** ’s shoulder’s, still fast asleep as the train rumbled away. He should of at least TRIED. But then again, since… This had happened to him… He had subconsciously pushed everyone away from back then…  
He shouldn’t have just left them though… Not like this…

But like they’d said, he was here now. That’s what mattered.  
And if he was forced to part with them again after this he was personally making sure Pritchard stayed the hell away from them and they were allowed to go somewhere where they didn’t have to put up with any of this bullshit anymore.

He didn’t ask for this. Neither did they.

Pritchard hadn’t told him much about Persephone. David hadn’t even told him much about how they’d managed to get employed at their age in the first place. There was something hidden about **[Y/Name]** and for their sake, he wanted to find out what it was.  
Anything to make all those years right again.

And hence, he’d been willing to put up with Pritchard in his ear again just for this. He had said that they weren’t in any danger at first, but clearly whoever was after them had been tipped off since he’d arrived. He’d heard him again when he’d spotted the van pulling up outside. A scan confirmed there was enough heavy weaponry and surveillance equipment in that van to supply a small army. Bit much for a simple computer programmer living out of a cheap apartment.  
Persephone was something serious and clearly very dangerous if people were willing to send unmarked vans and men armed with guns and grenades to get it… and very likely kill anyone keeping it.  
Like they’d said again… they never signed up to be part of anything like this.

Jensen was used to it by now. SWAT, Sarif, TF29… he’d been in this long enough to know the game and know what he was getting himself into. Not **[Y/Name]**. The Panic Bag idea was clearly something they’d had to plan for. Same with the burning of the papers, the various "landlord agreements".  
They hadn’t asked for it… but they knew how to prepare for it.

If only he could convince them to come with him, maybe join TF29 so he could keep an eye on… No. No, they’d have to make that choice and by the sounds of it, they’d already made it. They didn't want to be a soldier. They just wanted to be a human being again.

Difficult to guarantee in this day and age but… He owed it to them. As a friend.

Suddenly, he heard them mumbling into his shoulder, snapping him out of his daydream.  
He looked at them as their face began to scrunch up, seemingly in pain as their mind replayed something terrible to themselves alone. Automatically, the scans revealed an elevated heart rate, indicating their fear as their mumbling got louder. Their mechanical hand was clenched tight as they hugged closer to him.

They were having a nightmare.

Lack of sleep, stress, the threat that hung over them… It must’ve all gotten to them in the rush. Quickly, Jensen took a careful hold of their shoulders to stop them from unintentionally hurting themselves or anyone else on the train. He gently shook them, trying to get them to wake up before it got any worse for them.  
“ **[Y/Name]**?”

No response. They were crying now from the pain. Something was wrong...

“Hey, Wake Up… **[Y/Name]**?”

Crying worse. Breathing faster. Fists clenched. He tried again one more time.

“ **[Y/NAME]**!”

Their eyes opened. They screamed.  
They were awake now.


	9. Morpheus’ Wake

Jensen held your shoulders as you came back. Your heart racing and a phantom pain ringing through your nonexistent arm, it took you a few moments to remember you were still on the train.  
“You alright?”  
“I… I… Yeah… Just… Shit...”

You hid your face in your mismatched hands, Still trembling a little bit from the memory. The last part was always fragmented but it was always the loudest. You had just felt yourself being dragged into the Janitor's Closet before blacking out completely. The first time you'd had it in public though…

“Is this normal?”  
You looked up at him, trying to find a response to his question, instead struggling to admit the truth to yourself before nodding and raising your metal arm. He sighed. He hadn’t planned for this...

“How long has this been going on for?”  
“Since… well… Since this. But it’s been over a month since I last had it that bad...”

You gritted your teeth, the joint between flesh and machine acting up again. Jensen’s first instinct seemed to be holding your arm tightly with a concerned look as the other early morning passengers seemed to stare on with vacant faces amidst your crisis.  
“When was your last neuropozyne injection?”  
“Thursday, why?”  
He looked about him, clearly knowing that taking your medication for the pain right now would not only be unwise but also unsanitary.  
“Can you hold out till we reach our stop?”  
“Jensen, I’m fine.” You spoke though half-gritted teeth. The pain was numb but constant. If you had to describe it, it would’ve been something along the lines of a rather annoying case of muscular cramp, even though your limb had no muscles within it to cause such a condition. You smiled, trying to shrug off the previous panic of your night terror as the train rumbled on, Jensen sighing as he took his seat next to you again.  
“If it gets any worse, tell me.”  
“Seriously, Jensen… How the hell could this get any-?”

_SKREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEECH!!!!_

You were flung at him like a rag doll before you could finish your sentence, the train stopping violently with no explanation. Several passengers fell to the ground as the ground beneath them ceased to move, everyone gripping bars and seats in fear as they tried to keep on their feet to no avail.

“What The Hell?!”  
“You were saying…?”

You stumbled to get off of Jensen, holding onto the seat for support and then the pole beside you to hold yourself up. You remembered the bag and quickly grabbed hold of it before any panic ensued.  
“Did we crash?”  
“No...” The lenses went down, “Stay here.”  
His voice had lost its vaguely big brother-like tone and taken a dark edge before he began to walk towards the sliding door leading to the next carriage. You chased after him and called his name in desperation for an answer to the situation but were met with no response except for the sound of him pressing the button to open the door.

You couldn’t get through to him now, something had changed. Something subtle yet horribly obvious. You decided the best thing to do to take your mind off it was to help up some of the other passengers and try to guide them to the next carriage and out of harm’s way until he returned. At least that was your plan until part way through helping one woman off the ground, the black-cloaked mass that was Adam Jensen had proceeded to fly straight through the center of the carriage, crashing way too close to your feet. The woman ran from you and your friend as you shouted his name in shock.

He did not respond immediately, but you instead realized how he’d been thrown through the carriage in the first place. A large man, heavily clad in armor… No, no that was definitely not armor.  
That was some seriously advanced military level augmentation work. Both arms were grey steel, the left forming a brutal, canon-like appendage. They shared a brief glance with you before seeing the bag and taking aim at you.  
Before he could fire though, a blade cut through the air, a blaze of black gold and steel, deflecting the blast to the train roof instead. You vaguely heard the word “RUN” through the ringing in your ears and proceeded to do exactly that in the opposite direction.

As you ran, a flurry of questions swarmed your head. What on earth had just happened? Who was that? Where had he come from? Why did Jensen all of a sudden have shades on and blades coming out of his arms?!  
It was all too much as you dived into the 5th carriage along to catch your breath. Daring to peer around the corner behind you, you saw the flashing lights as augmented cannon blasts and blades danced in a furious and violent ballet far away at the other end of the train.

This was definitely worse than the dull pain in your arm right about now.

You fell to the ground, hunching yourself into the corner, hugging the bag as your only protection. This was all so very very wrong. A few hours ago, you were asleep. You were at home. You were safe in your little bubble. Safe from all this fucking madness you’d been flung into.

No. No, this was due. This day had been coming for you ever since you’d agreed to hide your piece of Persephone. They had already been coming for you. They’d just been biding their time.  
They could’ve come 2 years ago, but they had come today.

You looked around the corner again. The fighting had stopped. Someone had won… and someone had lost.

The other passengers had all exited the train. However, you had remained, seated in this corner. Why the hell drove you to still be here? Fear? Curiosity?  
Carefully you arose from your seat, holding the bag tightly around your shoulder. The drives were too deep in the bag for someone to just dive into a side pocket and take one. You stepped out from your hiding spot and carefully made your way towards the original epicenter of the fight.

What if Jensen was hurt?  
What if whoever that was still there?

All sense and reason had momentarily left you have you continued to step closer.  
This was in every single way a BAD idea… and yet you were still moving closer.  
“... Jensen?”  
“Right here.”

You nearly screamed in surprise as Jensen stepped out of an open side door and grabbed your arm, pulling you out of the train with him and onto the tracks.  
“Jensen! Holy shit, are you okay?!”  
“I’m fine, **[Y/Name]**... But we have a problem.”  
“Problem, what problem? Who was that guy? Is he after-?”

Jensen cut you off by gently but firmly holding one hand over your mouth to shut you up.

“Do you trust me?”  
“Mmph?!”  
“Do you trust me? Yes or No?”  
You quickly nodded, thinking the answer was obvious until he quickly grabbed you very tightly around the waist, pulling you closer to himself than you could have ever anticipated in your life and leaped off of the edge of the track in a single bound… or at least what you had thought was the edge of the track.

In your half-dazed panic regarding events of the nightmare, the ambush and your subsequent removal from the train, you hadn’t quite stopped long enough to realize that the train had been stopped halfway over a bridge.  
And by bridge… it was an extremely high viaduct going over the city.

“JEEEEEEEEEENSEEEEEEEEEEN!!!!!!!!!!!!”


	10. Ananke’s Leap

The first few seconds of the fall you believed would be your last.  
You watched the bridge grow higher as air rushed past your ears like a howling wind. You had become deaf to your own screams as you felt the plunge into nothingness as the edge grew farther away, your body sensing the inevitable crushing fate that must’ve awaited you at the end of this.

The light, however, gave you a reason to believe otherwise.

You could feel yourself holding on tighter to Jensen, wrapping yourself around him as one arm pulled you tighter to himself, the other moving away like he was flying or bracing himself for the landing. The burning golden light protruded before your eyes from his spine and into his palm, electricity everywhere as you continued to fall but somehow knew the landing would be safer than first anticipated.

The world seemed to slow for a moment again, this time for a moment you wanted to remember. Watching the golden glow of something akin to electric wings as the air raced past you both, your arms around him and one of his around you.  
You could never have imagined in a thousand years how safe you would feel falling off of a damn bridge.

You had too many questions to ask right now, but they could all wait. This moment was the moment you’d waited for. This day when your waiting had ended. The old life gone in an instant as you were forcibly pushed off the edge and onto the next stage of life.  
You couldn’t understand why you’d sat still for so long when this was what was waiting. An adrenaline rush of immeasurable proportions. You’d known the danger was there but you’d been too scared to face it, to step out and… embrace it.

Now you knew what was waiting.

And you hoped he’d stay by your side as you opened the door.  
He was quite possibly your only friend now… Aside from perhaps Pritchard but… Yeah.

You closed your eyes as the glow brightened, tucking your head in between the space that was his shoulder and his neck, letting the aether pass you by before the shockwave hit you.

The moment of mild delusion had passed.

It felt like the whole world had hit you in the spine as you felt the force of the landing through Jensen’s body. Soon, you realized he’d only just remembered to breathe at this point as he exhaled over your shoulder, loosening his grip on you and letting you uncurl yourself from him.  
You fell rather ungracefully from him with your back to the floor, the stone paving of the earth welcoming you back whilst you experienced a sudden forgetfulness of the how exactly to use your legs in the midst of the adrenaline high you had just experienced.

“You alright?” Jensen breathed as he knelt next to you, seeming trying to remember how his legs worked too after all that excitement.  
“Yeah… Just… Great… I...”  
Apparently, the forgetfulness had spread to the use of your lungs now, forfeiting to just give a weak thumbs up instead.

The now familiar feeling of metal arms holding you firmly became apparent as Jensen pulled you up and to your seemingly non-existent feet, helping you through the stumble as you held your arm around his shoulders for support. The weight of the bag on your own shoulders was both a comfort and a burden, to say the least.

“Since when… The hell… Could you do THAT?!”  
You honestly sounded drunk in your shock-induced state. The question was met with silence and a response of “It’s a long story...” before he began a conversation with an invisible person you hadn’t expected (nor honestly wanted) to intrude the moment.

“Pritchard, I’ve got **[Y/Name]**. Tai Yong’s hired Aug Mercenaries to take them out.”

You gave him an inquisitive, panicked and confused look before Jensen shook his head at you, mouthing “Don’t worry” as the one-sided conversation continued.

“We’re safe. Gonna keep low for the night, wait until later to keep moving. You and I are gonna have to have a talk once this is over.”  
“Tell him he can fuck off from me...”  
Your words were mumbled and brutally honest to your current emotions as you staggered next to Jensen.  
There was half a smirk. Did Pritchard hear that? Or was that just Jensen’s response to the remark?  
You honestly couldn’t care less about Pritchard's potentially damaged ego as the pair of you limped your way over to a relatively decent hotel conveniently situated halfway down the street from you.

Giving off the vague impression of a couple who’d been out till the early hours and were in need of urgent accommodation, the receptionist soon handed over a key for a room and before you knew it you were leaning against the side of the elevator on your way up to your temporary sanctuary.

The room itself was modest, a cleaner variant of your old apartment. With a sigh of defeat, you collapsed on the bed and rubbed your eyes as dawn crawled up the sky through the window.  
There was a click as Jensen closed the door and locked it, seemingly closing the pair of you off from the outside world.  
“How're you holding up?”

The question cut through the haze as you looked up at him with a weak and exhausted smile, only just realizing the relief from the weight of your bag as you removed it from your shoulder.  
“Well… I can certainly say that this is not how I anticipated my morning to turn out...”  
There was an understanding chuckle from Jensen.  
“Get some rest. I’ll call Pritchard and see how far we have to go till we reach Montreal…”  
“Wait, what? Montreal?”  
“It’s best we get you somewhere that they won’t find you and we won’t arouse any suspicion. I would’ve suggested Prague, then maybe-”  
“Jensen, seriously. I could not give a rat’s ass where the heck Pritchard is, where the heck I am right now or where the heck you are taking me. What I do care about is why the heck would Tai Yong Medical of all people want the Persephone files enough that they would go so far as the level of stopping a goddamned train on a damn bridge to kill me for it?”

You looked at him with pleadingly, hoping for a scrap of information to lead you to some clue as to just how bad your predicament had become, your only reward being a sigh and an inward expression of regret or sadness as he turned towards the bathroom.

“Get some rest, **[Y/Name]**...”


	11. Eleos’ Regret

He must’ve been in the bathroom for at least an hour before he knew **[Y/Name]** was asleep.

After a shower and a check-over of his augs, he'd stepped out for a moment to check on them. The picture he saw was that of his old work friend curled up on top of the sheets as sunlight cracked through the yellow-tinted curtains, dust particles dancing through the thin slither of light which cut across the figure on the bed, still fully clothed minus their sweater, shoes, and jacket. They seemed to be too exhausted to be capable of seeing any nightmarish images in their thoughts, their mechanical hand resting peacefully beside their head and the other tucked under the pillow as their face portrayed a picture which spoke of happier times long past them.

A part of him smiled at the moment of innocence, then sunk with the knowledge behind the image he was witnessing play out. They had deserved an alternate version of this scenario. Same beautiful vision, different circumstances leading to it.

“Enjoying the view, Jensen, or were you just making sure they were asleep?”

Breaking from the moment thanks to Pritchard’s intrusion through the InfoLink, he returned to the bathroom and closed the door, lest he wake his friend with the upcoming conversation.

“Talk to me about Persephone. Now.”  
“You know I can’t te-”  
“You damn well know you can, Pritchard, for their sake. Now tell me what kinda shit you and [Y/Name] are in before I find someway to get you out of my InfoLink for good and contact someone more cooperative than yourself to fix this mess which I'm pretty sure is actually yours.”

There was a silence after Jensen’s hushed-down yet stern retaliation against his ex-colleague's defiance. No one needed a C.A.S.I.E to know he was pissed off right now. A sharp intake of breath followed by a sigh of reluctant defeat preceded the much-needed explanation.

“Alright Jensen… Have it your way. But I’m warn-”  
“Get on with it.”  
“You said that David Sarif employed them because they had “potential”, yes?”  
“That’s how I remember that conversation, yeah.”  
“Well, I’m the one he actually asked to employ them into the team in the first place. He knew that I had… Ambitions for the security protocols at the time and after seeing **[Y/Name]** ’s research-”  
“ **[Y/Name]** ’s Research? You mean…?!”  
“No, no… Persephone was… partially my idea, Sarif’s encouragement and largely the other’s skills and knowledge in amassing the solid concept of what was originally… **[Y/Name]** ’s research.”  
“... Do they know about this?”  
“Course they do, that’s the point. We ALL knew about this. The Persephone Project was OUR project. But it was [Y/Name]’s research into the kinds of tech we needed which set the dominoes falling.”

“Alright… What kinda of tech was their research about?”  
“ **[Y/Name]** is one of the most skilled security-based A.A.I specialist technicians alive that I had knowledge of at the time.”  
“A.I? Are you saying Persephone is…?”  
“A complex Advanced Artificial Intelligence program which was originally designated to take over all security functions of the Sarif Industries Detroit HQ… And I mean ALL of them”  
“So you were trying to put me out of a job?”  
“No, Jensen this was… This was at least about a year or so before you arrived. Actually, it was probably one of the reasons Sarif hired you besides Dr. Reed’s recommendations after your departure from the Police.”

“What happened?”  
“Tai Yong and Versalife happened. They had realized what we were up to and that we’d stepped into something that was… well, not really our official business and Sarif was giving us funding and resources which overstepped the boundaries of our original platform...”  
“They thought you were getting too big for your boots?”  
“They threatened to shut us down, Jensen. Versalife had already pursued research into A.I and A.I based systems years ago but they let slip on the fact that they were shut down themselves for being too extreme back in '07.”

“How so?”  
“From what I managed to dig out of them, they had suggested creating a hive mind, using human minds to generate a... a quantum computer, if you will. The idea was shut down by DARPA for breaching several human rights laws presumably given how many ethics violations would be required. However, **[Y/Name]** ’s research offered a theoretical way to circumvent the need for any kind of organic input; A purely synthetic alternative. The potential to create a truly advanced A.I. without breaching any laws buuuut-”  
“Tai Yong and Versalife stepped in before you could get a foot in.”  
“They offered [Y/Name] a ridiculous sum for their research. Even a new job with either of their companies instead. But Sarif wouldn’t have it and presumably on his advice, **[Y/Name]** refused all incoming offers. So they threatened all of us into silence. Sarif ordered directly for us to stop working on Persephone and later hired you as Head of Security as per Dr. Reed’s suggestion. You were, effectively, the alternative to the most advanced A.I system of our time.”  
“Thanks for the compliment.”

“We split the remaining files of Persephone into 12 parts. One per team member. **[Y/Name]** was still a loyal member of the team but options were… limited.”  
“I remember you were a complete asshole to them whilst I was there.”  
“Reportedly, I’m an asshole to everyone, Jensen… but I’ll admit I was rather harsh on **[Y/Name]**. I was angry with Sarif over choosing to employ you over a candidate with a private security history or instead taking a stand against Tai Yong and Versalife. **[Y/Name]** was supposed to have a bright future ahead of them but their work was so specialized. We couldn’t let them go lest they get picked up by another company with similar intentions but we couldn’t put them to anything higher the light work… Hence the coffee duty thing…”  
“Which you took advantage of.”  
“I Did Not-! Ahem… Besides, that was in the past. After the Break-In and the loss of Smith, Li, Kato, and Dimitriou, we had to redistribute the hardware. I took Smith’s piece, Norton took Kato’s, Bexton Li’s and Paulo Dimi’s. Then we had a new problem.”

“The murders?”  
“They were assassinated, Jensen. All of them. One by one. Bexton was first. Marked as missing for a year until they found his remains somewhere in the river. Norton had looked into the case 5 months in. Ex-MI5 and yet he went missing as well soon after he started searching. He was found along with Bexton. After the Aug Incident and the collapse of Sarif, we all split and went underground. It was only after Paulo and his family were killed that we started keeping minimal contact to protect each other. [Y/Name] and the others except for Ozmond all moved out of Detroit. Each one was hunted down and killed over the course of 2028. It was just Ozmond, Myself and **[Y/Name]** until Oz’s unfortunate passing. The man was always a tad obtuse in his beliefs but… he was a good man nonetheless.”

“So now it’s just you and **[Y/Name]**.”  
“Like I said, minimal contact. I haven’t spoken with them directly in at least 2 years but I’ve kept tabs on them. I was keeping tabs on all of them until… Look, when I called you, I knew you would be angry at me for intruding yet again and asking for favors when I said we were supposed to be even. But when I was checking Amir’s Drive, I noticed something… off. I just want to see the other 6 files and see if they’ve been deliberately tampered with by something external or if Persephone is doing something... else.”  
“You say that like they’re sentient.”  
“Well they were semi-intended to be but that was just us imagining things, being overly-ambitious. But there is something going on, Jensen and... ”

There was a sigh, half of the regret, half of the resistance to admitting it.

“I didn’t want to cut myself off from the others like I did. Like they all had to. Staying off the grid and away from each other was the only way we could seemingly protect ourselves from what was clearly Tai Yong and Versalife. I know you said something about both those companies having relations to… Them.”  
“You think it was the Illuminati calling the shots and trying to kill you all for working on Persephone?”  
“No, Jensen, that’s preposterous! I… Alright, maybe a bit… Just… We’ve lost too many people Jensen. I've kept silent this long out of fear of blowing anyone's cover but we've already lost so many... If I lose… If we lose **[Y/Name]**... Jensen, I don’t think I’d be able to forgive myself.”

“Well, they certainly seem to like you after all this.”  
“Ha ha, Adam Jensen: Sarcastic Genius. Just… Just get them to Montreal safe. I’ve already pinged your location and booked your tickets at the nearest airport for tonight. You have at least 12 hours to recuperate. I’ll meet you at the airport.”  
“Why Montreal?”  
“If someone is following you, Jensen, I don’t want them snooping around for me too in Detroit. I have a contact in Montreal, they’ve set me up with temporary accommodation and a relatively standard set-up for the time being. Just… Keep them safe, Jensen.”

“I will, Frank. I promise.”


	12. Hypnos’ Peace

“HUD off...”  
There was a pause as Jensen carefully opened the door to reenter the bedroom space.  
Yep. Still asleep.

He had asked the receptionist for the first room they could give them, so the double bed wasn’t exactly planned for, but in light of the situation they had to make do. Jensen rubbed his eyes, realizing his own need for sleep despite the glaring light of day which seeming to be breaking through the curtain. He walked over and closed it, giving the room a dull morning glow as he looked back to **[Y/Name]** on the bed.

He had two options. Bed or stay awake. He would’ve taken a chair for their sake but the only one around seemed to have been removed prior to their rushed arrival. Instead, he opted to carefully position himself on the other side of the bed, giving [Y/Name] enough space to rest and for himself to possibly sleep without disturbing them.  
He looked up at the ceiling, a plain white canvas painted a pale gold by the light filtering through the curtains.

He thought over what he’d just heard from Pritchard, about **[Y/Name]** ’s research, Persephone’s purpose, Tai Yong, Versalife...

It had been a fair few months since Jensen had last met the essence of Eliza Cassan in Prague, the formerly Picus-Controlled A.I. He looked over at **[Y/Name]** , wondering if by any chance they had anything to do with that…  
Picus was connected to the Illuminati. Tai Yong was definitely involved somehow, Versalife as well. His vision returned to the view of the ceiling before the backs of his eyelids, trying his best to put it all out of his mind but to no avail.  
He didn’t have much of an idea as to who exactly within Picus had really ‘created’ Eliza or how they had created them… but the concept of Persephone... Could it be that...? No. No, Pritchard said that they had been forced to shut the project down before they had been able to complete the program. But by the sounds of it… Something in those drives was doing… Something.

Something impossible.

The whole situation was… troubling. The spider web of secrets and lies seemed to lead to the conclusion that whoever was after [Y/Name], Pritchard and Persephone… They were certainly affiliated with the Illuminati. But why Persephone? Why track down an incomplete A.I program from little over half a decade ago when they already had Eliza… Or at least, the pre-Incident backup of her?  
None of it made any sense…

A mumbling from beside him broke him out of his thoughts again. He looked over to see **[Y/Name]** , turned over slightly towards him from their original position, one mechanical arm crossed over their stomach as they continued their seemingly peaceful rest.  
Pritchard said they’d had a bright future ahead of them before Persephone got shut down...  
He wished he had what it took to give them what they deserved.  
Peace. Security. Freedom…

But that just wasn’t possible right now. Even with the Human Restoration Act getting pretty much blocked after all of Nathaniel Brown’s efforts, people still feared The Augmented. **[Y/Name]** could’ve had a simple, easy-going life if it wasn’t for what happened to them.  
Even with their arm, their mind was what Sarif had wanted in the first place. Their knowledge in A.I was what got them hired. They could’ve moved on, found work elsewhere in the industry, but then what? They’d still be caught up in this conspiracy somehow.

Every question he got answered simply offered up more questions. There was no end in sight for him… and none in sight for them either. Or anyone for that matter.

He watched them as they breathed in a deep, steady pattern, at ease from the outside world for a short time. He would be lying if he hadn't thought of pulling the covers over them for their sake, but they must've been so tired from the events of the early morning that they'd gone straight to sleep on top of them. He then glanced at the bedside table and noticed the neuropozyne pack, clearly recently used.

Jensen only had the smallest idea of **[Y/Name]** 's augmentation. When he'd come back after 6 months, he'd at some point asked Sarif about them and how they were doing, only to receive the usual smoke-and-mirrors act of “Don't worry about them, son” and “They've only moved to day shift as part of their psychological recovery. They'll be alright.”

Missing an arm was something which, as far as Jensen could understand, needed a bit more than 3 months leave and a shift change as suitable “recovery”.  
If only he'd known they were in this deep…

He really had to stop blaming himself for all that. The Break-In almost 3 years wasn't his fault, nor was it Sarif’s really. That fiasco was all on the part of the now deceased Tyrants who had perpetrated the attack and the still-at-large Illuminati members who had called the shots in the first place. For all they cared at the time, **[Y/Name]** was just another casualty to the list to cover over the kidnapping. Unless they were trying to kill two birds with one stone and-

There was a creak as the mattress shifted under **[Y/Name]** ’s weight as they subconsciously flipped around onto their side to face him, still fast sleep with the mechanical arm now close to Jensen’s own.  
Yeah, he was thinking too much into this mess. Forcing the facts to fit theories he barely had any comprehension of.  
All he really had to worry about now was getting **[Y/Name]** safely to Montreal and those drives to Pritchard. After that, he had no idea.

Going back to Prague was obvious, he still had work to do with TF29 and The Juggernaut Collective. But for **[Y/Name]** , the path was not so clear.  
Their former apartment was exposed to their pursuers now, their old life ripped apart by hands which were not their own. All they had left now was the contents of that bag and the clothes on their back. And maybe, just for now, him.

He hadn't realized it, but whilst he was wrapped up in his thoughts, watching the sleeping calm in **[Y/Name]** ’s face, one black-plated, augmented hand had slipped into their scuffed-up white metal fingers, silicon-plastic fingertips tingling faintly with a false sensation of genuine touch.  
When he came to his senses, he almost pulled back, trying to bring himself back from what whatever was happening. But when the other augment stiffened its grip, whether out of its owner being a little more conscious than first anticipated or just a temporary cease-up, he stopped himself again.

It was a fair few moments until he finally settled himself with the situation, allowing himself to relax in the moment as his friend slept beside him. He lent his head back into the pillows, inadvertently syncing his breathing with theirs as he drifted into the void alongside them.

Must’ve been the first peaceful sleep the pair of them had had in a long time.


	13. Eris’ Truth

“... This is Eliza Cassan with the 12 O’ Clock News Live from Picus this 27th of November 2029. Breaking News from The UN Security Council as The Human Restoration Act is about to be voted on within the hour. We at Picus will be reporting directly from New York City with special updates regarding the vote which has been a hot debate these past few months regarding the regulation of augmented persons in the world today since the terrible Aug Incident of 2027...”

Your head was blurry from sleep as the sounds of an afternoon news broadcast echoed through the room. Hazily, you opened your eyes, expecting to be home in your cold apartment, preparing for the usual routine of coffee, work, repeat, etc… but something wasn’t quite right.

First, you were fully clothed. This was kinda normal in comparison to the other fact that you did not seem to have the bedcovers over you and yet the bed actually felt… warm.  
An absolute impossibility in your house, that was for certain.  
Secondly, the light from the window was not absolutely blinding you as usual. Instead, a large silhouette seemed to be blocking your view of the window…

Steadily, your senses returned to you. There was a very distinct smell of tobacco and whiskey emanating from the figure beside you. You didn’t smoke or drink, but the scent seemed… familiar.  
Sight still hazy, your priorities turned back to what you could feel. The warmth was coming from the same place as the scent and eventually, your memories began to return to you in pieces.

You remembered administering your neuropozyne dose the night before, the train, the phone call…  
Then you really remembered what happened. The fire, the fall… Arriving at the hotel…

Your eyes shot open to see Jensen sitting beside you, shirtless and drinking a glass of something vaguely alcoholic. The news broadcast continued in the background as your surroundings came back to you. You eventually realized just how close to him you were as your focus came back.  
This was… Surreal to say the least.  
Had you slept with Adam Jensen or had you _SLEPT_ with him?  
No, you would’ve _DEFINITELY_ of remembered something that bizarre.

Pushing the blurry nonsensical questions out of your head, you shuffled to turn yourself over onto your back. This had clearly caught Jensen’s attention as you yawned and moved away from a position which, judging by the ache in your bones, you had been in for some time.  
“Hey.”  
“Hey… Is it afternoon or morning? Never can tell these days…”  
“Definitely afternoon.”

Your voice was hoarse with tiredness as you began to sit up, a mechanical hand of his helping you out slightly in guiding your back from the bed to the headboard. The scent of coffee hit you as you turned to the bedside table.  
“Figured you’d need a pick me up after that nap.”  
“Thanks… How long have I been out?”  
“I’d say about 8 and a half hours.”

You sighed and rubbed your eyes, letting the caffeine resuscitate you a little more as it scalded your tongue. This shit definitely tasted a lot better than whatever the heck you’d been drinking before all this.

“... After an intervention from Interpol in August, disaster was averted at the Apex Center when a Terrorist attack threatened the lives of UN Delegates and members of the Santeau Group, including their CEO, Nathaniel Brown. This incident could have spelled the end of any chance of the Human Restoration Act being stopped, but with the protection of Interpol and Tarvos Security services, the Act has been slated to be ended soon with today’s vote. However support in favor of the Act and what it promises has been strong and with the fall of the original ARC terrorist organization, it is looking like it’s going to be a close one, folks. Stay tuned for more updates on this topic soon...”

“If that shitshow passes… we’re so screwed...”  
You turned to Jensen, half inquisitive to his point of view and half taken aback at the true state of him. Whilst you knew he was shirtless, you hadn’t actually seen the full extent of his augmentations. Both arms were slick black metal past the shoulder, metal bars and sockets in his chest and neck seemingly holding him together.  
God, what in hell's name happened to him during that break-in…?

“They’re grasping at straws. Brown being alive and promoting has put them at a disadvantage. They’ll either try to kill him again or block the vote but given what’s happening today, chances are they’ll vote it out… Unless they pull something else out of their sleeves...”

He took another sip of his alcohol, eyes never leaving the screen. You looked at him, processing what he’d just said. One word seemed to pique your interest.  
“They…?”  
“Illuminati.”

You nearly spat out your coffee in surprise. There was an… Awkward silence as that word seemed to echo around the room. He was still glaring at the TV screen, drinking what at this point you were pretty sure was whiskey… Where it had come from, you weren’t going to ask but the blatant and blunt explanation of ' _Illuminati'_ was… Well, you certainly weren’t sure if he was serious or drunk or neither, mouthing a simple ‘ _Oooookay_ ’ before sipping your coffee.

The silence remained for several moments.

“Um… Jensen?”  
“Yeah…?”  
“Are you serious?”

The silence returned as you awkwardly looked at Jensen who gave you that weird sort of half serious, half frowning face of ‘ _Yep, I’m serious. Illuminati’s real. All of it. 100%_ ’

Another mouthed expression of ‘ _Oooookay_ ’ was all you could muster as you sipped a little more of your coffee and proceeded to get off the bed.  
“Pritchard’s booked the flight to Montreal in 4 hours.”  
“Exactly why I’m going to have a shower, get dressed and pretend you didn’t just say the Illuminati’s real and they are trying to pass the Human Restoration Act and screw us all to hell...”

That knowing smirk of his seemed to momentarily return to him before you quickly grabbed some clothes out of your bag before taking a spare towel and entering the bathroom for your much-needed ablutions before the familiar sound of “...This is Eliza Cassan reporting live from Picus...” filled in the audible space between you and Jensen.

That was an awkward conversation, to say the least...


	14. Tethys’ Clarity

Okay, you were gonna be completely honest. You loved this shower.

For starters, it actually worked. The shower in your apartment had a habit of routinely breaking and the water was almost always way too cold. But this? If there was a heaven on this godforsaken planet, it was located currently in this very shower.

It reminded you of the old days, of warm, daily showers before a night slaving away at Sarif Industries behind a computer screen, of comfortable, clean and crisp clothes with modestly high-end labels. You remembered every evening waking up to decent coffee, a chance to catch a decent meal before work and despite being a Cyber Security employee with a graveyard shift, the nighttime view of Detroit was just so... Alive. So many lights… From your apartment, it looked like the city had decided to emulate a night sky despite the fact it was almost always overcast.

Detroit wasn’t exactly a dream city and your job kinda sucked some of the time, but it’s always the little things that you missed now from way back then. The warmth, the salary… Your friends…

Holding your good hand against the shower wall, you let yourself stand there for a few moments as the water burnt against your back. Your friends...  
Bexton was an asshole, always making fun of your younger age, but he was more like an annoying brother to you and was genuinely pretty good at what he did at work, even taught you a few classic tricks.  
Norton was the more sensible one. British-born and MI5-trained… The man had impeccable manners but was terrible at optimism.  
Smith was the more positive Irish force in the team...  
Li and Kato could’ve been sisters they were so close.  
Dimitriou was a decent guy. Complete nerd, had hand-painted Tomb Raider and Final Fantasy figures on his desk 24/7. Always up to date with the latest tech knowledge.  
Amir was an MIT genius, McGregor was a fidgety suck up and Paulo was just a big Navy-trained teddy bear.  
Ozmond was like a grumpy old grandpa to the team and was the only one besides Jensen who could get Pritchard to back off from goading you.

Pritchard… He was just and will probably always be an asshole. Bexton had the redeeming, silly brother factor, but Pritchard acted like he either hated you or just detested your presence.  
But he was good at his job, probably the best out of all of you, and both he and yourself were the only two left standing after these trying times.

All because of Persephone.

You stood up, hoping the water would wash away the memory for a time. Picking up a bottle of the hotel shampoo, new memories sprung up from what you used to use at Sarif. Both had a similar lemon-citrus scent. After a lather and rinse, you realized that a shower this good had probably been long overdue.  
Feeling your hair and skin through mechanical fingers, a haircut and shave were probably overdue as well.

Running your hand over your augmented arm, you leaned against the wall of the shower, watching the digits curl up and stretch amongst the artificial rain as you commanded them to. Your mind wandered to the thought of Jensen’s own augmentations. You had heard that they were extensive but both arms? What else had to be forcibly modified for him to survive? What the heck had even happened to him that day…?  
You remembered the incident on the train, the blades, the glowing wings as you both fell off the edge.  
Who had done this to him? Sarif? Why? And what exactly was he doing now that made him act and sound like he’d jumped straight out of a spy movie to rescue you? Before he was the Ex-SWAT Head Of Security. Serious and in control but he was… more at ease with himself. Sure he must’ve had his issues but in comparison to now?  
He was the same Jensen but he had… Changed somehow.  
Both subtly and dramatically but you couldn’t figure out what made you think that about him…

And there was this… Illuminati thing. That bit was… unnervingly weird for him. The old Jensen would’ve laughed off any mention of such a group, this Jensen was… A lot more serious about the matter, to say the least. After what he’d said about Brown, how sure and analytical he sounded… It made you question what had made the once indifferent-to-all-politics Jensen turn to believing conspiracies and governmental ghost stories?

What kind of secret was he really hiding from you?

Finishing up, you took the towel and dried yourself off a bit. At the same time, you glanced at yourself in the mirror. Sure you’d seen yourself before in your own bathroom mirror but only now did you notice the toll that the past 3 years had taken on you too.

The arm was an obvious change of course, and your face was relatively the same in terms of your eye color, facial bone structure, etc…  
No… No, something had changed in you as well after everything that had happened.  
Something you couldn’t fail to recognize.  
The day you lost your arm, you had certainly lost a physical piece of yourself but it was not that.  
Not something organic or tangible or even really describable.  
You thought maybe the old you had died with the Aug Incident, in your loss of freedom and purpose and the meaning of being human.  
You thought it had perhaps died in the apartment, in the flames of the old Persephone Papers which were once your purpose, your life.

No. You had always been there. Still alive, still going. Changed but real.  
You hadn’t signed up for this but you were damned if you were gonna back the fuck out now.  
It didn’t matter that men with guns were coming to kill you, steal your life and your life’s work.  
It didn’t matter at all anymore.  
You’d made it this far. You’d fallen off the edge.

Now it was time to fly.

**-Δ-**

Upon exiting the bathroom, now dried and clothed, the sight which greeted you was Jensen was still shirtless and was smoking out of the open window.  
To say he seemed troubled was a severe understatement, especially given the events of the early morning.  
Eliza Cassan continued to commentate on the situation at the UN.

“Still got about 3 hours until we should go.”  
You sighed, and then spoke. “Good. Plenty of time to explain some things.”

He turned to you, his cigarette loosely hanging from his fingers trailing a stream of smoke out the window as he looked at you, half questioning, half knowing what you had said and were about to say.

“Look, I don’t know what is going on other than a lot of bad people want to kill me for something which sure as fuck was not my idea in the first place, but honestly? Despite not signing up for this bullshit, I want to know what the big deal is and how I can stop being such a helpless idiot in the middle of all this.”  
“You’re not-”  
“3 Years, Jensen. 3 years surviving with one arm, living knowing that people I knew and loved were getting hurt, killed and worse because of something I was a part of, 2 of those years in a crummy apartment with my dignity stripped from me like I was some kind of sub-human. I spent all that time alone and moping around, doing jackshit with what's left of my life until one morning, then one best friend I had comes back, my apartment’s on fire, I’m being thrown off a bridge and now I’m in a hotel waiting to fly off to Montreal. So for the next three hours, Jensen, you are going to explain to me everything you know about how much shit I am in and then… If you want... tell me when the fuck you started needing blades coming out of your damn arms.”

The smoke filled in the minute’s still silence that followed.

“Also, it would probably be good if you explained when the hell you started believing in the Illuminati.”

...

“Can I ask where this is all coming from?”

“... Let’s just say that a damn nice shower gives a person some clarity in a stressful situation.”


	15. Philotes’ Bond

You both had taken up seats on the edge of the bed as everything came to light.  
Jensen hadn’t been able to explain everything to you but he was able to explain enough for you to understand the situation as was necessary.

He explained his augmentations, how the break-in had in fact been a cover to kidnap Dr. Reed and her team, how Sarif had brought him back from the brink of death and modified him without his permission.  
He explained that the people responsible for the break-in had connections to a real-life Illuminati, how the had their hands in almost every company, including Tai Yong.  
He explained what Pritchard had told him about Persephone, about the glitch in Amir’s files, about how everything up to this point may have been connected.

There were other details which were missed but you roughly understood what was going on now. But by god, it was a lot...  
You had known that your A.I research, once a project from your University days, had been a catalyst which had catapulted you into the world of Sarif Industries. But it’s true significance had been slightly beyond you. You were indeed what could be described as a 'Specialist Architect' in Artificial Intelligence Theory and Technology, but the fact that Pritchard had based Persephone on your work was… Well, it was a bit of a surprise, to say the least.  
You had merely assumed before now that you had only been brought into the fold to assist purely because you knew specific and complex details about A.I theory and the art of building an advanced artificial intelligence program, not because you had been the one whose research had actually kickstarted the inspirational snowball that was The Persephone Project.

Was all this actually… Your fault?

“ **[Y/Name]**?”

You looked up immediately, realizing you’d missed an entire section about something regarding Interpol that Jensen had been explaining amidst your wayward thoughts.

“We can… stop if you want, I-”  
“No. No, I’m… I’m fine, I just...”  
“ **[Y/Name]**?”  
You swallowed down what felt like might of been tears coming.  
“If… If what you say is true... And my research is what inspired Persephone… Does this mean that this was all my-?”

“No.”  
He answered, cutting you off before you could finish.  
“ **[Y/Name]** , this is not your fault. At first, I thought it was Pritchard’s, and then Sarif’s but no. This is on them. This is on the people who killed your friends, your colleagues. Not you. I know you didn’t ask for this so don’t even think for a second that this is all happening because of you.”

You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself before your body could resort to crying for relief. A metallic hand had wrapped around your own as you bit your lip and gripped the edge of the bed for support.  
“I promise… They aren’t gonna hurt you. Not anymore. Not if I have anything to say about any of this.”

The other arm came around your shoulders and gently pulled you into something of a hug, like a protective older brother convincing their hurt sibling that everything was going to be okay.  
He held you close, resting one hand on your head which was now comfortably nestled somewhere between his neck and shoulder, the other hand moving from yours to your back.

This was… nice.  
You had managed to avoid crying like you had done earlier that morning, though you still had that bitter, sickening feeling of sadness in the pit of your stomach. Instead of giving into it, you instinctively just brought up both arms to hug Jensen in return, feeling the seam between flesh and augment that was the backs of his shoulders as you held each other for comfort.  
You couldn’t care less that he was shirtless right now. You just needed the hug.

“Thanks, Jensen…”

**-Δ-**

“Breaking News from the UN Security Council. The results of the vote have been released, revealing a unanimous vote against the Human Restoration Act... ”

There was an audible sigh of relief from yourself as you sat on the edge of the bed, still 2 hours away from getting on a plane to Montreal. That was one less thing you had to worry about for now at least…  
Jensen had finally put on a shirt and what looked to be a tactical vest before putting on his coat.  
You already had your's coat on and were simply waiting for the word to leave.

The comforting hug with Jensen had been… nice, to say the least. It had been a long time since you’d been in contact with anyone who actually gave a shit about how much of a mess of a human being you were emotionally. He may not have looked like it now, but he definitely had a heart in him somewhere.  
The heart of a good friend.

Eventually, he turned to you and nodded, giving the signal to prompt you into grabbing hold of the strap of the bag around your shoulder as he switched off the television, swiftly cutting off the mantra of “This is Eliza Cassan...” from the atmosphere of the hotel room. Your clothes from before had already been neatly shoved into the bag prior to the plan to hastily leave without a trace. This plane was still at least a while away from landing but better safe than sorry.  
Soon you would have the chance to probably give Pritchard a piece of your damn mind before handing over the files… preferably leaving him with a broken nose if you could.

Despite what Jensen had told you about that man actually caring and doing it all to protect you, the sheer satisfying thought of just punching him square in the face for everything that had happened these past few years was just the right kind of motivation you needed right about now.

You could already tell this was going to be one hell of a trip...


	16. Selene’s Dawn

Soon enough, both of you were out of the hotel before the sunset came down.  
Jensen held his arm around your shoulders again before the pair of you started walking through the streets, not trusting the taxis for seemingly obvious reasons.  
The area of town you had “dropped” in on that morning was surprisingly less downtrodden than you had originally expected with the nightlife of the city steadily starting to pick up again, presumably with Augs preparing to celebrate the apparent demolition of the Human Restoration Act which had been a lingering threat for so long.

Soon, you realized just how close to the airport you actually were as within half an hour you were checked in and hastily brushed through customs after the attendants took one look at Jensen’s papers.  
Before you knew it you were sat waiting in a worryingly sparse gatehouse with a lukewarm burger whilst Jensen had taken to refueling on the fries.  
The silence was only disturbed by nothing but the sounds of a cheap yet long-awaited meal being chewed through…  
A businessman's computer receiving a fair few last minute clicks…  
A mother trying desperately to calm her excited yet tired child...  
A man tapping his foot repeatedly whilst checking the clock at increasingly frequent intervals…  
And the sound of a vacuum cleaner on the other side of the hall as the minutes ticked away.

Everything that needed to be said had already been said between you and Jensen as far as you were concerned.  
The priority now was getting on that plane and getting to Montreal, as far away from whoever was chasing you as soon as possible. Knowing what he knew about everything had set a whole new perspective on everything for you and your life now.  
Small talk didn’t matter.  
Casual conversation didn’t matter.  
All that mattered was that time was your enemy now. Every step you took you would have to look over your shoulder… Like you hadn’t been doing that already.  
Everything was just spokes in a wheel for the men and women at the top of the food chain to play with and you couldn’t do shit about any of it.

By the sounds of it, Jensen had tried for a long time to find out the whole story behind it and understand the web of lies but you could see he felt like he had barely even reached the iceberg let alone chipped at it.  
One man against a corporate army protecting a rabbit hole’s worth of secrets… And from what you could gather, he seemed damn well convinced he still couldn’t even get close to stopping them without unintentionally hurting anyone else.

It’s a lonely damn world fighting things you don’t understand...

The dark was starting to leak in quickly as the minutes continued to pass.  
The thoughts of this Illuminati group continued to filter through. If the people after you really were affiliated with the same people Jensen was after, what would they want with Persephone? Even with all 12 drives-worth of data, all you had in there was a load of 1s and 0s since the project had never been completed. A framework was there but no life or “intelligence” within the code had been properly implemented yet thanks to Sarif ordering the shutdown and the team never having an opportunity to ever “regroup”, as it were.

But what would’ve happened if you all had had the chance to complete it?  
What if you all had been given unadulterated permission to finish Persephone?  
If it had worked, Sarif Industries would’ve not only had the latest in automated security defenses but been able to branch out into the realm of Advanced A.I tech for the future. Hell, if it really was based on your own research, you could’ve been in the best possible position a Cyber Security employee could be in. All of you could have…

But that was just not how it turned out at all…  
And whatever or whoever had been after you must’ve have already been ahead in knowing all this. Knowing exactly how to play the game that you were barely aware of till now.  
You had believed it was all just a misdirection of funding leading to a silenced project, the murders of your co-workers obviously connected somehow but you had no idea just how deep this rabbit hole had already been dug out… Or how far you had fallen in.

It was horrible to think that it was all so plain to see now and yet so inevitable. Sarif had only wanted you for your research and the other leading corporations had Sarif tightly under their thumb.  
You had chosen to stay out of the belief that this had just been a corporate blip, that your time would come soon, but little did you know it had already passed with a few signatures and an avoided lawsuit.

And now you were on the run from people hidden in shadows behind corporate black-glass and your only defense was your old friend from work… Who had had a fair few upgrades and apparently some rather extensive experience in fighting these people from what you had picked up on during your conversation.

Megan though? That was unexpected. You understood that her research was important but right now you felt like you were somewhat in her position now before the break-in. Persecuted for stepping too far into a revolution. The only difference between you and what you understood about Megan's predicament 2 years ago was that you weren't trying to side with the people trying to hunt you. You weren’t trying to “get out of it” or “take the path of least resistance.”

These people were definitely bad and you knew that but…  
You just knew.  
You knew you couldn’t let yourself make that choice. If the facts were right, they had killed your friends, your colleagues… and now they were trying to either manipulate you through fear so as they could use you for their own ends or just simply silence you.  
And you knew you were not going to go down silently.  
If the time came… You’d make sure of that alright…  
You knew you would have to.

There was a small alarm.  
You looked up, realizing it was the signal for everyone to move and get on the plane.  
Jensen stood up first, tossing the empty packet of french fries into the bin beside him before nudging your shoulder for you to leave.

Time to fly.


	17. Mneme’s Curse

“ **[Y/Name]**!”

 

_ Be-Beep… _

 

“Patient is unconscious… Heavy Loss of blood from left arm and abdomen...”

“Potential extensive damage to the… God, how many times did they shoot this kid?”

 

_ Be-Beep… _

 

“ **[Y/Name]**! WAKE UP!”

“Sir, please… We need you to calm down...”

 

_ Be-Beep… _

_ Be-Beep... _

 

“Vital Signs are spiking… They’re going into shock...”

“There’s no way they are gonna save that arm… Nerve responses are 100% negative”

 

_ Be-Beep… _

_ Be-Beep... _

 

“DAMMIT, YOU! DON’T YOU DARE DIE ON ME!”

“Sir, Please! We are doing all we can for them, would you kindly wait outside?”

 

_ Be-Beep… _

_ Be-Beep… _

_ Be-Beep... _

 

“Administering sedative… How soon can we get them into surgery?”

“Quickly… We don’t have much time…”

 

_ Be-Beep… _

_ Be-Beep… _

_ Be-Beep… _

 

“What did I do… Shit… **[Y/Name]**...”

“This wasn’t your fault, pal...”

 

_Be-Beep…_

_Be-Beep…_

_Be-Beep…_

_Be-Beep…_

 

“ **[Y/Name]**... ?”

 

**-Δ-**

 

The glare of bright ceiling lights blinded you as you opened your eyes, a loud and incessant beeping in your ear as your breathing quickened. You’d just had the worst nightmare…

Or was it…?

 

“ **[Y/Name]**... ?”

You blinked, the colours of the world morphing into cold blue-grey hues and steel-coloured blurs. The bed beneath you was not your own and everything was numb.

What in the hell…?

 

“Hey, **[Y/Name]**? You still with us, kid?”

You blinked again, looking towards the source of the voice you could hear beside you. Male… American… Familiar…

“Mr. Sarif....?”

“Welcome back to the land of the living, kid. Had the rest of us scared back here...”

“I… Wha… What happened…?”

“Hey Hey Hey, Relax kid… You’ve been under a long while, we nearly thought we’d lost you.”

“I… I don’t understand.”

“It’s… It’s long story… ”

 

Your vision began to focus itself as mild sensation returned. The beeping was at a constant whilst the IV drip in your right arm gave a dull sensation, like a large plastic weight attached to your skin covered in sellotape.

The other arm felt like… nothing. Like there was nothing there. A white sheet covered it from your view.

 

“What’s going on… Why am I in a hospital? Where’s...”

Your mind flashed with a gunshot. Several gunshots. The beeping beside you quickened. Electricity and Fading and-

“Pritchard!”

 

A synthetic hand firmly held you back by the shoulder before you could you try to get out of the bed.

“ **[Y/Name]** , Pritchard’s fine. Got out with a few scrapes… Better than most of us...”

 

Your blood ran cold.

“Most… Of us?”

 

Your boss gave you a look that you didn’t need words to read.

Whatever happened back there, whenever “there” was… It was bad. Very very bad.

You weren’t gonna like what he had to say at all…

 

**- 2 HOURS LATER -**

 

Sarif had told you the news of your four colleagues who had remained in the Hub. All gunned down in cold blood… They’d barely had time to leave their desks.

 

Jensen was… unconfirmed, as Sarif had said. Dr. Reed and her team were presumed dead. Dozens more Sarif employees had been killed in the fallout with at least a hundred injured in the premises both from both by the terrorists and the damage to the building.

 

You had been unconscious for 2 weeks. Last you remember, you were with Pritchard looking for Jensen or escape before being flung into the air by something.

The medical report stated that you had sustained a broken leg and fractured hip, arm, shoulder and jaw bones from impact with the adjacent wall along with at least 5 direct high-velocity bullet wounds. Your torso resembled that of a constellation from the heavens it was so scarred from the stitches needed to save your life.

Your arm had been practically eviscerated by the remaining bullets, given as you’d used that arm to shield yourself instinctively during the incident. Nothing could have been done to save your original flesh and blood.

 

Sarif told you that you had been recovered by the paramedics from the neighboring janitorial closet.

It was a miracle you were still alive. More so that you’d survived your specific injuries with no more than a mangled arm and several large bullet holes.

 

He admitted to having paid off the medical bill, on your behalf much to your relief. Whilst you had not asked for it, you couldn’t argue. You really couldn’t…

 

“One last thing, kid...”

Sarif always had this cheery “Dad” vibe about him around the employees when he wasn't in a meeting or doing something important and he’d kept that up around you until just then. Something went off when he spoke about this… arrangement.

 

“What is it, boss?”

“Your research… What you and your team were working on a while back...”

“You mean Pers-?”

He brought a finger to his lips hastily before glancing at the security camera in the corner. You caught on immediately, eyes still damp from tears from finding out about your colleagues status not that long prior.

“... We shut that down when you asked. Just as promised.”

“Yeah but… Look, whilst that project is… just a memory now, the “P” Project was a big BIG deal back then. And in certain circles that little project might still ring a few bells...”

“What are you saying, boss?”

“What I’m saying is… If after all of this, you get any requests from Versalife, Tai Yong etc etc… You’ve gotta promise me you’re not gonna go ahead a leave us high and dry back here.”

“Wha-?”

“I’m already speaking with the others, most of them have made their choice. We’ve already lost a good number of people today and the last thing a guy like me needs is feeling like you might skip out on us for a better-sounding gig all because of...”

“What the hell are talking about, boss?”

 

He sighed.

“I’m gonna put through a request for standard augmentation for you, should you want it. Again, I’m going around to everyone who… lost something in the incident. Charity ain’t exactly free y’know and...”

“You want to make sure I’m not going to run-off elsewhere after getting a new arm?”

“Bingo. Not to sound like some kinda bad guy but… if we’re gonna be handing out augments, we need to make sure the investments in the right place. You’re a valuable asset to the company, **[Y/Name]** , and it’d be a shame to see you go after this. Hence, if you wanna stay and receive augmentation, we’re willing to give you certain… benefits.”

“Benefits?”

“Well, the arm’s a start. But we can give you a raise, promotion, neuropozyne discounts, state-of-the-art augmentation offers, free in-house medical, a new office once the building’s restored, etc etc… Anything you want. All you have to do is stick around with us to the bitter end.”

“The bitter end?”

“I mean, you’re still young. I’m sure we can find plenty of opportunities for you within the company. Think of it as a bit of a pick-me-up. I mean...”

 

“Yes.”

“Huh…?”

Your quick agreement to a seemingly all-to-good-to-be-true offer actually surprised him apparently… or he’d been bargaining on that from the start… You couldn't tell. You didn’t care.

“If the only catch is sticking with Sarif Industries until further notice… I’m in for the long haul. Just… So long as I get to know if the others are gonna be okay.”

 

He tapped your shoulder and smiled as his Dad vibe returned. “That’s good to hear, kid.”

He got up to leave, continuing on about how he’d let the others from your team come in now and how he’s gonna come back with the paperwork in a few days once everything was confirmed for your augmentation surgery.

 

You didn’t care.

 

The cracked mug that had been left on the side with 9 Get Well Soon cards, a bouquet of half-wilted flowers and your old phone was all that had your attention now.

 

That mug… 

 

If only you’d known where he was right then...


	18. Uranus’ Voyage

You came back to reality with a rather sudden jolt.

The plane you had boarded was surprisingly sparse. A late night flight to Montreal would presumably have more passengers. Pritchard had presumably done something to make sure you were on a cheap but quiet flight... Whether out of sympathy or out of necessity, it was unclear. But you were inclined to believe the latter since a quiet flight means less chance of suspicion or being followed.

Your mind must’ve wandered off into the past as you gazed out the window onto the sea of dark clouds and distant city lights. Your cargo had been just small enough to be stowed away under Jensen’s aisle seat.  
Whilst the plane had three rows of seats either side of the aisle, he had chosen to seat himself in the aisle with the bag whilst you took up the window. He insisted that it was in case you wanted a nap across the seats but doing so with your stature and the available space would’ve required you to curl up into an extremely tight fetal position. To accomplish such a feat without accidentally kicking him, the plane wall or having to rest your head in his lap for the duration of said nap would’ve been impossible (and potentially awkward).

Besides, you had a feeling your legs would’ve seized up in that position had you attempted it, given how long the flight was gonna be.

“Feelin’ alright?”

You turned, snapping out of your post day-dream thoughts to your co-passenger.  
“Hm? Yeah, just… Thinking.”  
“Well, you have been staring out of that window for probably a few hours now.”

Hours? Man, had it really been that long? Felt like 5 minutes since you zoned out.

“I get… flashbacks, past replays… like my brain’s picking through a filing cabinet from years back trying to make sense of the here and now.”  
“Makes sense...”  
“It’s not like I want to. It just… happens sometimes. Sometimes for no reason at all.”  
“For example…?”

You sighed as you tried to pry your mind back to something, anything other than what had just spun through your head, but to no avail. Just something to talk about other than your damn arm…

In the end, you just gave in for lack of any recent or less painful recollections of your past nightmares.

“Just now… it was like a replay of when I first woke up after... well...”  
You gave an awkward smile and raised your arm trying to play off the fact that you felt utterly shit about most of your flashbacks being about THAT.  
Before then, it was just high school fuckups and arguments at home… Yeah, on second thoughts talking about the arm was better than all that bullshit.

“Must be like living the whole thing all over again...”  
“Yeah… I guess. Sometimes, it’s patchy. Like I only hear what was said. Little details... Echoes… Other times it’s like watching the whole incident play out in my head and I can’t find the off switch. Fucking nightmare...”

He went silent but his eyes gave you a sense of understanding. Judging by that, you guessed that he’d had similar experiences.  
You could barely guess how bad he must have it.

“Anyways...” You quickly attempted to divert the subject, “Anything else you wanna talk about other than my arm and my scrambled-to-hell brain?”

He paused as if wondering whether it was okay to ask this of you now of all times.  
“ **[Y/Name]**... What happened to you during the… Aug Incident?”  
“I thought I just said…?”  
“I know. I just… I’ve been meaning to ask you since I found out about what happened to you so it’s better if I just get it over with so I know.”

You took a breath. You had a feeling this question was gonna come round sooner or later.

“I was home alone that night, half asleep watching TV. I… can’t remember the details but...”  
“It happened to you too… Didn’t it?”  
“What Aug didn’t it happen to? It… It felt like I’d blacked out. It’s… blurry, trying to remember what happened but… When I came to, the lamp was broken, my head was bleeding and I hurt everywhere. Must’ve gone and run into every freaking object in the damn apartment.”  
“I see...”  
“And in the morning, everything just went downhill. Started with weird looks and suspicious glances from pretty much everyone… anxiety went through the roof. Over the next month, Sarif Industries took a downhill turn, I lost my job, couldn’t afford or risk staying in Detroit any longer and I just ended up living in that shitty apartment you found me in. The whole world’s view of Augs changed that day… News said it was just a faulty batch of neuropozyne...”

He was silent again, gazing fixedly at the back of the seat in front of him. You noticed this and lowered your voice to continue.  
“But given what you told me earlier… That’s not what really happened, is it?”

“Did you go to a LIMB Clinic sometime around the week before the incident?”  
“Huh? Well… Yeah, all augmented Sarif employees had to every week. Standard procedure.”  
“Did that appointment have anything to do with a new Biochip?”  
“Um...” You thought back “Now you mention it… Yeah. I… remember there was some kind of glitch. Something on the news said it was a system-wide error or something. So… You’re saying it was the biochip?”  
“A broadcast signal caused all biochip users to experience glitches. The new Biochip was installed with malware which would lead to one individual having the power to shut down, limit or… control all augs with the press of a button.”  
“The heck…?”

That… was… insane.

“I know because… I was the one who had to stop the signal.”  
“What the...?”

He quickly brought one finger to his lips then put it down again as the hostess went past.  
He mouthed, “No one except a handful of people knows that so I’d appreciate it if you kept quiet about that specific detail… And probably the rest of it, too...”  
“A-alright… But… Jesus, Jensen. What in the holy fuck landed you in this deep?!”  
Your voice was hushed and earnest, and you hadn’t noticed how much you’d leaned over towards him from your original seat. You could see his eyes now. A blue-gray hue with metallic golden rings spiraling in and out of focus.  
God… what in hell had happened to him since that day?  
What had really made him into the man sat across from you?

He averted his eyes for a moment as if trying to come up with something appropriate to respond with, only to raise his hand in a similar way you had done earlier.

Both of you… Never asked for this…  
And here you were now.

You felt an arm around the back of your shoulder and neck as you shifted properly into the seat next to him to hug him, something apparently you both rather needed right now.   
You heard him speak into your shoulder as you held each other close for comfort.

“I wish I’d know what had happened to you sooner, **[Y/Name]** ”  
“Same here, Jensen… Same here...”

Bittersweet… If only it could’ve stayed that way for the whole journey...


	19. Moros' Warning

The flight had continued on for an hour or two. Or less, but that’s how long it felt to you in that moment.  
Honestly, you felt like time was just losing its grip on you, really.  
Or you had lost your grip on it.  
You didn’t have enough energy to give a shit about that anymore.

At some point, you’d remained in the second seat, Jensen’s arm still over you and gently rubbing your shoulder to keep you relaxed after the hug, possibly to also keep you in the present moment.  
However, the silence and white noise had offered your mind the opportunity to go blank and wander, the sensation of Jensen’s hand on your shoulder being the only shred of reality your consciousness could cling to.

This… was a disturbingly peaceful moment. One you wished hadn't had to go away as something you didn’t want or especially need decided to rear its head to ruin your moment.

The Unexpected Bullshit.

It began with Jensen quietly telling you to stay in your seat as he stood up. At the time, you felt like he was just getting up to stretch his legs or go to the bathroom, but as you saw the stern look on his face, the concentrated aura of severe uncertainty, you knew something was off.  
He began walking away towards the front of the plane, offering you the chance to look about yourself.

Seated right at the back of the plane, you had an almost complete view of the whole passenger’s cabin. A few heads were visible over the tops of the seats, 3 at most. You remembered a child being on the plane with their mother, presumably asleep currently due to the uncharacteristic quiet permeating the cabin and too short for you to see over the seat. At least 2 air hostesses were positioned in front of the Pilot’s Cabin, and presumably, there was at least one member of staff in the area behind you. Again, you were surprised how sparse the plane was. Something definitely… wasn’t right

“Excuse me?”  
The sound of a friendly attendant pushing the food cart along the aisle startled you out of your unnerved thoughts. He smiled at you, waving towards the cart suggesting whether you wanted something. With all your spare change in your bag and not in your pocket, you decided it was best to decline for now.  
“Are you sure? It’s been a long flight.”

Something wasn’t right.  
You declined again and glanced over.  
The other two hostesses at the end of the cabin were watching you.  
The businessman from the airport was stood in front of the bathroom cubicle.  
The 2 other heads were still seated.  
The cart was blocking you from leaving your current position and the bag was tucked under Jensen’s seat next to the aisle in front of you.

“I really think you should at least have a bottled water for now, pal… After all... ”  
There was a click next to your head before your eyes had a chance to turn back to the attendant.  
“There’s still a way to go till we reach Montreal.”

Oh… Fuck.

**-Δ-**

“How long till you can make it?”  
“15 mins tops, probably 10 if I’m quick but seriously, Jensen? Are you sure that this is…?”  
“We need to get off this plane ASAP. They must’ve beaten Pritchard to the punch and messed with the plane schedules. Made him pick the quietest flight so they could isolate us.”  
“Alright, how many of them are Augs?”  
“All of them. Scans showed up with mostly military-grade mental enhancements and one has a malfunctioning leg augment. They’ve also got a pretty convincing android gun-case disguised as a young child. Cabin doors are too thick to scan past so the only people on this flight I can account are attendants and “passengers”...”  
“Shit… All this for your Programmer? The heck kinda mess are you-?”  
“I can deal with it. You just make sure we can get off this plane before we're both dead in a flying tin can.”  
“Roger that, Spy Boy. You better be alive when I get there.”

There was a click as he ended the call, turning to open the door of the cubicle, only stopping when he picked up on the sound of **[Y/Name]** speaking to someone over the bug he’d left on the hood of their jacket.  
There was another click of a gun’s safety and a male voice saying “There’s still a way to go till we reach Montreal.”

Fuck. He leaves for less than a minute…  
He tried the door. Locked from the outside. He tried unlocking it again. No use, they must’ve had something against the door or they’d messed with the locks somehow.

They had fucking planned this out pretty fucking thoroughly.

“Heh… Looks like your friend’s having a bit of difficulty in there. Nothing to worry about.”  
“W-what the fuck do you want?!”

They were scared, he could damn well tell. He threw his weight at the door to try busting it open. Barely budging. What in the fuck had they reinforced this with?! Usually he’d have the door off it’s hinges by now.  
There had to be a way out. They’d isolated him from them for a reason. They knew what he could do and they damn well had an idea that they could get to [Y/Name] whilst he was there. Now they were alone and by the sounds of in serious danger.  
“No need to be scared, pal. See, we’ve heard a lot about you, **[Y/Name]** and you seem to be pretty innocent in all this so I’d advise that you just stay where you are and wait it out till we reach our final destination. Trust me I really don’t wanna have to use this on you buuuut if you, say…. Do something stupid, I might just have to, got that?”

Honeyed words disguising the intent of one sadistic fucking hitman. He could only assume the others on the plane had already taken to surrounding the cubicle he was trapped in.  
There had to be an access panel somewhere for the electrics. Something to get him out of here without bringing down the whole plane. If he timed this right he could take these guys out and still accomplish the plan.  
But this had thrown everything into jeopardy.  
He had to make the call without anyone hearing but it meant leaving **[Y/Name]** alone.  
Now he had to get the fuck out of here and save their ass before anything happened… or worse.

“What the fuck do you want with me, asshole?”  
There was an exasperated and heavily sarcastic sigh from the male as he continued on his ramble.  
“Oh my god, isn’t it obvious? We land, we take the bag, possibly kill you and your friend so you don’t follow us, yadda yadda, big ol’ payday. You watch movies right?”

There was an uncomfortable pause as Jensen continued to look for an access in the cubicle, removing his coat in preparation for the oncoming firefight. Timing… The was gonna be all about the timing.

“Of course… I kinda wanna skip the whole shooting-you thing because let's be honest, you seem pretty damn clueless as to just how much shit you are in, my friend. Your buddy in the bathroom however probably isn’t gonna like either of those options since what we are after is juuust there so yeah, if you could kindly hand that over when we land, I won’t paint the window behind you with your brain matter. Deal?”  
“Fuck. You.”  
“Rather you didn’t, pal. Not exactly appropriate for a business transaction of this nature. But if you want me to turn that window behind you into a certain Rauschenberg painting on your behalf… Be my guest.”

With the final dark thorn of the mercenary’s speech, there was a bang as something on the bathroom door sparked. The lights went out for a second and started flickering as the door was finally broken off its hinges and sent flying into the assassin guarding it.

There was gunfire.  
There was blood.  
There was the sound of screaming.  
Of breaking bones.  
Of fabric tearing.  
Sparks and Electricity.  
Metal and Flesh.

Only 3 souls were left conscious after the several heated seconds of fury. One furiously trying to escape the grasp of the mercenary who had an arm around their upper arms and a gun to their head, a stream of aggressive swearing escaping them as their legs violently kicked about in frightened anger.  
“Stay Still!!!”

“Let Them Go!”  
“Seriously think I’m gonna do that after what the fuck YOU just did, bastard?!”  
“FUCKINGLETGOOFMEYOUFUCKINGASSHOLEFUCKINGMOTHERFUCKERARGH!!!”  
“I Said STAY STILL!”

The honey was gone. All that remained were thorns, and thorns get clipped.  
Jensen began making his way at him, undeterred and anger evident.  
**[Y/Name]** continued to struggle as the man turned to the gun on Jensen, only to miss twice before a flash of metal cut the barrel off the gun and a mechanical fist made firm and direct contact with his face as **[Y/Name]** dived back.

The only sounds left in the cabin were the whistling of air through the various bulletholes in the cabin’s punctured walls and the cracking of a window on the far side of the plane, as well as **[Y/Name]** ’s panicked gasps as they tried to comprehend what the fuck had just happened.

“ **[Y/Name]** -?”  
“DON’T! DON’T TOUCH ME! JUST… Just… Fuck… What The Fuck...”  
Their breathing was going at a rate Jensen hadn’t seen before. Eyes wide at the blood and carnage. Sheer Panic.  
“ **[Y/Name]** , listen to me. We have to get off this plane now.”

No answer. Just more incoherent mumbling.  
“ **[Y/Name]**?”  
The mumbling trailed off, their balance unsteady.  
He rushed to catch them before they passed out from the shock.

Surrounded by the mess around him as the ceiling’s lights continued to spark.

This was going to be a fucking mess to explain later...

**Author's Note:**

> INDEX LINK:
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>  
> 
> <http://archiveofourown.org/works/12932874/chapters/29555337>
> 
>  
> 
> [](https://www.flickr.com/photos/137435437@N07/27281988879/in/dateposted-public/)  
> 


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